Odes and Sonnets, IllustratedD. Appleton, 1859 - 107 стор. |
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Сторінка 19
... face , oh , Harvest Moon ! ' Neath yon lowly roof he lies , The husbandman , with sleep - seal'd eyes ; He dreams of crowded barns , and round The yard he hears the flail resound ; Oh ! may no hurricane destroy His visionary views of ...
... face , oh , Harvest Moon ! ' Neath yon lowly roof he lies , The husbandman , with sleep - seal'd eyes ; He dreams of crowded barns , and round The yard he hears the flail resound ; Oh ! may no hurricane destroy His visionary views of ...
Сторінка 32
... face display , And fragrant breast - they ' d dry again to the root , As with the blasting of the mid - day's ray ; And this soft wind , which both perfumes and cools , Pass like the unregarded breath of fools . FANSHAWE . < & SONNET ...
... face display , And fragrant breast - they ' d dry again to the root , As with the blasting of the mid - day's ray ; And this soft wind , which both perfumes and cools , Pass like the unregarded breath of fools . FANSHAWE . < & SONNET ...
Сторінка 62
... face , A blank the beauty of the morning is , And grief and darkness all for light and grace ; ) Nor bright the sun , nor green the meads appear , Nor colour charms mine eye , nor melody mine ear . Me , void of elegance and manners mild ...
... face , A blank the beauty of the morning is , And grief and darkness all for light and grace ; ) Nor bright the sun , nor green the meads appear , Nor colour charms mine eye , nor melody mine ear . Me , void of elegance and manners mild ...
Сторінка 67
... there , Thou seem'st to smile with softer gleam To see thy lovely face so fair . 1 Though blazing o'er the arch of night , The. ODE TO THE EVENING STAR . Shake the reed , and curl the stream Silver'd o'er. 67 ODES AND SONNETS .
... there , Thou seem'st to smile with softer gleam To see thy lovely face so fair . 1 Though blazing o'er the arch of night , The. ODE TO THE EVENING STAR . Shake the reed , and curl the stream Silver'd o'er. 67 ODES AND SONNETS .
Сторінка 70
... face ! What ! may it be , that e'en in heav'nly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries ? Sure , if that long - with - love - acquainted eyes Can judge of love , thou feel'st a lover's case ; I read it in thy looks ; thy languish ...
... face ! What ! may it be , that e'en in heav'nly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries ? Sure , if that long - with - love - acquainted eyes Can judge of love , thou feel'st a lover's case ; I read it in thy looks ; thy languish ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
airy BAMPFYLDE beam bids bloom bough bowers breath breeze BRIGHT MORNING STAR buds calm CHARLOTTE SMITH clouds cowslips DAISY dance dear delight dewy dost doth drest DRUMMOND EARL OF SURREY fair flocks flowers fragrant gale give my love gleam gray green grove hail HARVEST MOON hast hath hear heart heaven HENRY KIRKE WHITE HERRICK hills light lone love good-morrow lovers May-pole mead meadows MILTON MOON of harvest morn MOUNTAIN DAISY murmur Muse nature's Neath night NIGHTINGALE ODES AND SONNETS pale peace pensive purple REDBREAST rill RIVER TRENT robe rose round rove rustic shade SHAKSPEARE shrill sigh silent sing SIR PHILIP SIDNEY smile soft song sorrow SOUTHEY Spenser Spring star Stella storm stream Sweet bird TEMPEST thee thine Thou merry month thro THRUSH thy modest trembling vale wake wander warbles Warton waves wild winds wing WINSLADE Winter woods WORDSWORTH
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Сторінка 26 - midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or if chill blustering winds, or driving rain, Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut, That from the mountain's side, Views wilds, and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discovered spires, And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil.
Сторінка 18 - FLY, envious Time, till thou run out thy race, Call on the lazy, leaden-stepping hours, Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace, And glut thyself with what thy womb devours, Which is no more than what is false and vain, And merely mortal dross; So little is our loss, So little is thy gain.
Сторінка 26 - Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge, And sheds the freshening dew, and, lovelier still, The pensive pleasures sweet, Prepare thy shadowy car. Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene, Or find some ruin 'midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams.
Сторінка 25 - If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, May hope, chaste eve, to soothe thy modest ear, Like thy own solemn springs, Thy springs, and dying gales...
Сторінка 106 - A gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold; A belt of straw and ivy buds With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Сторінка 12 - The schoolboy, wandering through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts, the new voice of Spring to hear, And imitates thy lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom Thou fliest thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another Spring to hail. Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year ! O, could I fly, I'd fly with thee!
Сторінка 94 - I'll borrow. Wake from thy nest, robin redbreast, Sing birds in every furrow ; And from each hill, let music shrill Give my fair Love good-morrow ! Blackbird and thrush in every bush, Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow ! You pretty elves, amongst yourselves Sing my fair Love good-morrow ; To give my Love good-morrow Sing birds in every furrow ! T.
Сторінка 90 - Sleepless ! and soon the small birds' melodies Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees ; And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry. Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay, And could not win thee, Sleep ! by any stealth : So do not let me wear...
Сторінка 94 - Sweet air, blow soft ; mount, lark, aloft To give my Love good-morrow ! Wings from the wind to please her mind, Notes from the lark I'll borrow : Bird, prune thy wing ! nightingale, sing ! To give my Love good-morrow ! To give my Love good-morrow Notes from them all I'll borrow.
Сторінка 27 - Winter yelling through the troublous air, Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes : So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, Thy gentlest influence own, And love thy favourite name ! ODE TO PEACE.