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" This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not. "
Gleanings from the Poets: For Home and School - Сторінка 322
автори: Anna Cabot Lowell - 1855 - 430 стор.
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The Indicator, Том 1

Leigh Hunt - 1820 - 432 стор.
...sordid boon '. : - • ',i , ., : This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; . „.| ,. t ., ., i -i . The Winds that will be howling at all hours, , And...flowers':'" For this, for every thing, we are out of tune; ' !•'•s'••-' '• • v.-nn .' It moves us not. — Great God ! I'd rather be l. t A Pagan...
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Specimens of the Lyrical, Descriptive, and Narrative Poets of Great Britain ...

John Johnstone (of Edinburgh.) - 1828 - 600 стор.
...soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers : Little we see in Nature that is ours ; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This Sea that...The Winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up- gathered now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us...
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The Methodist Magazine and Quarterly Review, Том 10;Том 21

1839 - 512 стор.
...soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers ; Little we see in nature that is ours ; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This sea that...; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune." ll. Sonnet*, p. 185. (Vhere shall be found a more beautiful spiritualization of sensible things than...
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Specimens of English Sonnets

Alexander Dyce - 1833 - 240 стор.
...something dark, Of the old Sea some reverential fear, Is with me at thy farewell, joyous Bark ! WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. THE world is too much with us ; late and...The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gather'd now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us...
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Methodist Magazine and Quarterly Review, Том 10;Том 21

1839 - 510 стор.
...soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers ; Little we see in nature that is ours ; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This sea that...; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune." Miieett. Sonnets, p. 185. (Vhere shall be found a more beautiful spiritualization of sensible things...
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Selections from the British Poets, Том 2

1840 - 368 стор.
...soon, (Jetting and spending, we lay waste our powers ; Little we see in Nature that is ours ; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon !. This sea,...winds, that will be howling at all hours, And are upgather'd now like sleeping flowers : For this, for everything, we are out of tune : It moves us not....
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The book of sonnets, ed by A.M. Woodford

A Montagu Woodford - 1841 - 320 стор.
...soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours ; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This Sea that...up-gathered now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for everything, we are out of tune ; It moves us not.—Great God ! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a...
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Cyclopædia of English Literature: A History, Critical and ..., Том 2

Robert Chambers - 1844 - 738 стор.
...soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers : Little we нее in nature that is ours ; We have gn of Jamos I. : — ' Such * superiority do the pursuits...but и mediocrity In them, merit* the pre-eminence everything, we are out of tune ; It moves us not. Great God ! I'd rather be A pagan suckled in a creed...
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Cyclopædia of English literature, Том 2

Robert Chambers - 1844 - 746 стор.
...soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers : I/ittle we see in nature that is ours ; We have lea. Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn...horn. Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September :l, everything, we are out of tune ; It moves us not. Great God ! I'd rather be A pagan suckled in a creed...
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Littell's Living Age, Том 110

1871 - 880 стор.
...soon Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers; Little is left in nature that is ours: We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon. This sea that...bosom to the moon — The winds that will be howling nt all hours, And now upgivthered lie like sleeping flowers — For this, for everything, we are out...
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