Poets of England and America; being selections from the best authors of both countries1860 - 472 стор. |
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Сторінка 10
... dream , I heard her breath my name . Her bosom heaved - she stepped aside ; As conscious of my look , she stepped- Then suddenly , with timorous eye , She fled to me and wept . She half enclosed me with her arms , She pressed me with a ...
... dream , I heard her breath my name . Her bosom heaved - she stepped aside ; As conscious of my look , she stepped- Then suddenly , with timorous eye , She fled to me and wept . She half enclosed me with her arms , She pressed me with a ...
Сторінка 15
... dream such trifles are assigned , As toys and empires , for a godlike mind . Rewards , that either would to virtue bring No joy , or be destructive of the thing ; How oft by these at sixty are undone , The virtues of a saint at twenty ...
... dream such trifles are assigned , As toys and empires , for a godlike mind . Rewards , that either would to virtue bring No joy , or be destructive of the thing ; How oft by these at sixty are undone , The virtues of a saint at twenty ...
Сторінка 17
... dream of peace , And saw , within the moonlight in his room , Making it rich , and like a lily in bloom , An Angel , writing in a book of gold : - Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold , And to the presence in the room he said ...
... dream of peace , And saw , within the moonlight in his room , Making it rich , and like a lily in bloom , An Angel , writing in a book of gold : - Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold , And to the presence in the room he said ...
Сторінка 34
... dream ! For the soul is dead that slumbers , And things are not what they seem . Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; Dust thou art , to dust returnest , Was not spoken of the soul . Not enjoyment , and not ...
... dream ! For the soul is dead that slumbers , And things are not what they seem . Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; Dust thou art , to dust returnest , Was not spoken of the soul . Not enjoyment , and not ...
Сторінка 42
... dream , Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream ? We look before and after , And pine for what is not ; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught ; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought . Yet if ...
... dream , Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream ? We look before and after , And pine for what is not ; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught ; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought . Yet if ...
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Інші видання - Показати все
Poets of England and America: Selections from the Best Authors of Both ... England Повний перегляд - 1860 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
ALLAN CUNNINGHAM amid Auld Robin Gray BARRY CORNWALL beauty bells BEN JONSON beneath birds bloom blossoms boughs breast breath bright brow CHARLES LAMB charm Cloudland clouds dear deep delight dost doth dream earth ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING eyes face fair fancy flowers gaze gentle golden grace grave green hallowed ground hame hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven hill hour kiss Lady leaves LEIGH HUNT light lips live look lover Lycidas Mary moon morn mountain mournful murmur ne'er never Nevermore night numbers o'er pale pleasure Poems poet poetry praise Preston Mill pride right hand path rose round shade shine sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spring stars stream sweet tears tell tender thee thine THOMAS HOOD thou art thought trees twine unto vale voice weary weep wild wind wings woods Yarrow young youth
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 372 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree ; Another came ; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he ; The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Сторінка 62 - MAY MORNING. Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
Сторінка 371 - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn...
Сторінка 458 - HEAR the sledges with the bells— Silver bells ! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night ! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Сторінка 17 - Nay, not so," Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerly still ; and said, " I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow-men." The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night It came again with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had blessed, — And lo ! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest ! LEIGH HUNT.
Сторінка 198 - Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken ! quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door ! " Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er...
Сторінка 197 - 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 footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch!
Сторінка 146 - As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Сторінка 198 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore ! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Сторінка 241 - And bring all heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.