Nightingale Valley: A Collection, Including a Great Number of the Choicest Lyrics and Short Poems in the English LanguageBell and Daldy, 1860 - 288 стор. |
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Сторінка 19
... summer - dried fountain , When our need was the sorest . The font , reappearing , From the rain - drops shall borrow ; But to us comes no cheering , No Duncan to - morrow . The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary ; But the ...
... summer - dried fountain , When our need was the sorest . The font , reappearing , From the rain - drops shall borrow ; But to us comes no cheering , No Duncan to - morrow . The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary ; But the ...
Сторінка 20
... summer winds a - wooing flow'rs . These are but gauds : nay , what are lips ? Corall beneath the ocean - stream , Whose brink when your adventurer slips , Full oft he perisheth on them . And what are cheeks , but ensigns oft That wave ...
... summer winds a - wooing flow'rs . These are but gauds : nay , what are lips ? Corall beneath the ocean - stream , Whose brink when your adventurer slips , Full oft he perisheth on them . And what are cheeks , but ensigns oft That wave ...
Сторінка 27
... Summer eve is sinking ; When on rills that softly gush Stars are softly winking ; When , through boughs that knit the bower , Moonlight gleams are stealing ; Woo her , till the gentle hour Wake a gentler feeling . Woo her when autumnal ...
... Summer eve is sinking ; When on rills that softly gush Stars are softly winking ; When , through boughs that knit the bower , Moonlight gleams are stealing ; Woo her , till the gentle hour Wake a gentler feeling . Woo her when autumnal ...
Сторінка 39
... ; My spirit flew in feathers then , That is so heavy now , And summer pools could hardly cool This fever on my brow ! I remember , I remember , The fir - trees NIGHTINGALE VALLEY . 39 Song Why so pale and remember, I remember.
... ; My spirit flew in feathers then , That is so heavy now , And summer pools could hardly cool This fever on my brow ! I remember , I remember , The fir - trees NIGHTINGALE VALLEY . 39 Song Why so pale and remember, I remember.
Сторінка 44
... summer's blue ; And , having done his mission on the earth , Filling ten thousand vales with golden corn , Orchards with rosy fruit , And scattering flowers around , — He lingers for a moment in the west , With the declining sun sheds ...
... summer's blue ; And , having done his mission on the earth , Filling ten thousand vales with golden corn , Orchards with rosy fruit , And scattering flowers around , — He lingers for a moment in the west , With the declining sun sheds ...
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Nightingale Valley: A Collection, Including a Great Number of the Choicest ... William Allingham Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2018 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
Auld Robin Gray BALLAD bells bird bonnie bough bowers breast breath bright burning Busk chamber door cheek Clerk Saunders cold COLERIDGE dance dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth Edom Eugene Aram eyes fair fairy flowers frae Glen grave green grey hair hand happy HARTLEY COLERIDGE hath hear heart heaven heigh-ho hour kiss'd lady Lady Anne Lindsay lay a-thinking leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Randal loud lover melancholy merry mither morning mountain ne'er never Nevermore night o'er pale Quoth the raven Richard Lovelace river rose round sall seem'd shore sigh sing sleep smile soft song SONNET sorrow soul stars sweet tears tempests thee thine thou thought turn'd Twas unto verses violets wave weary weep wild WILLIAM ALLINGHAM WILLIAM BLAKE wind wings WORDSWORTH Yarrow
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 105 - Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For eve^r and for ever when I move. \j^ How dull it is to pause, to make an end, $> To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use ! As tho
Сторінка 96 - TIGER! Tiger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?
Сторінка 143 - Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hillside; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?
Сторінка 39 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn ; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! I remember, I remember...
Сторінка 85 - This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch...
Сторінка 142 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Сторінка 160 - IN Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round : And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
Сторінка 63 - GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he's a-getting; The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best, which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may...
Сторінка 25 - Her mantle laps Over my lady's wrist too much,' or 'Paint Must never hope to reproduce the faint Half-flush that dies along her throat.
Сторінка 141 - O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...