English Sonnets: A SelectionJohn Dennis H.S. King & Company, 1873 - 238 стор. |
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Сторінка 152
... immaculate feet ? Did viewless seraphs rustle all around , Making sweet music out of air as sweet ? Or his own voice awake him with its sound ? HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 1796-1849 . A CONFESSION . LONG time 152 ENGLISH SONNETS .
... immaculate feet ? Did viewless seraphs rustle all around , Making sweet music out of air as sweet ? Or his own voice awake him with its sound ? HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 1796-1849 . A CONFESSION . LONG time 152 ENGLISH SONNETS .
Сторінка 153
... For I have lost the race I never ran- A rathe December blights my lagging May ; And still I am a child , though I be old : Time is my debtor for my years untold . HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 1796-1849 . FAITH . Too true it ENGLISH SONNETS . 153.
... For I have lost the race I never ran- A rathe December blights my lagging May ; And still I am a child , though I be old : Time is my debtor for my years untold . HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 1796-1849 . FAITH . Too true it ENGLISH SONNETS . 153.
Сторінка 154
... sin I ought to hate , Nor love the law I yet would fain obey : But true it is , above all law and fate Is Faith , abiding the appointed day . HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 1796-1849 . THE UNPARDONABLE SIN . IF 154 ENGLISH SONNETS .
... sin I ought to hate , Nor love the law I yet would fain obey : But true it is , above all law and fate Is Faith , abiding the appointed day . HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 1796-1849 . THE UNPARDONABLE SIN . IF 154 ENGLISH SONNETS .
Сторінка 155
... this passive ball , Abides a power that can my soul absolve ? Could any sin survive and be forgiven- One sinful wish would make a hell of heaven . HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 1796-1849 . NIGHT . THE crackling embers ENGLISH SONNETS . 155.
... this passive ball , Abides a power that can my soul absolve ? Could any sin survive and be forgiven- One sinful wish would make a hell of heaven . HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 1796-1849 . NIGHT . THE crackling embers ENGLISH SONNETS . 155.
Сторінка 156
A Selection John Dennis. HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 1796-1849 . NIGHT . THE crackling embers on the hearth are dead ; The indoor note of industry is still ; The latch is fast ; upon the window sill The small birds wait not for their daily bread ...
A Selection John Dennis. HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 1796-1849 . NIGHT . THE crackling embers on the hearth are dead ; The indoor note of industry is still ; The latch is fast ; upon the window sill The small birds wait not for their daily bread ...
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beauty behold bird breath bright charm cheerful Cornhill Crown 8vo dark DAVID GRAY dear death delight divine dost doth dream earth Edition EDMUND SPENSER ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING English Sonnets eyes fair Faith fame fancy fear feel flowers friends grace happy HARTLEY COLERIDGE hast hath heart heaven heavenly HENRY CONSTABLE hope JOHN KEATS JOHN MILTON JULIAN FANE Lady language light live London look Lord love thee Love's master MICHAEL DRAYTON mind Mistress morn Muse never night o'er passion Paternoster Row Petrarch pleasure poems poet poetical poetry praise pray Price reader SAMUEL DANIEL Shakespeare shine sight sing sleep song sorrow soul SPEARE spirit story SURREY sweet tears thine things thou art thought touches verse voice volume weary weep WILLIAM CALDWELL ROSCOE WILLIAM DRUMMOND WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES WILLIAM SHAKE WILLIAM WORDS Wordsworth WORTH written youth
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Сторінка 31 - Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.
Сторінка 29 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Сторінка 48 - When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights ; Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have express'd Even such a beauty as you master now.
Сторінка 102 - IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free ; The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration ; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity . The gentleness of heaven is on the sea : Listen ! the mighty Being is awake, And doth with His eternal motion make A sound like thunder — everlastingly.
Сторінка 55 - come let us kiss and part, — Nay I have done, you get no more of me; And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free...
Сторінка 35 - Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Сторінка 42 - Why is my verse so barren of new pride, So far from variation or quick change ? Why, with the time, do I not glance aside To new-found methods and to compounds strange ? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, • That every word doth almost tell my name, Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?
Сторінка 26 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
Сторінка 210 - Still roll ; where all the aspects of misery Predominate; whose strong effects are such As he must bear, being powerless to redress; And that unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is man...
Сторінка 3 - The turtle to her make hath told her tale. Summer is come, for every spray now springs: The hart hath hung his old head on the pale; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings; The fishes...