English poetry, for use in the schools of the Collegiate institution, Liverpool [ed. by W. J. Conybeare].1844 |
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Сторінка 15
... youth suffer'd . My story being done , She gave me , for my pains , a world of sighs : She swore , in faith , ' t was strange , ' t was passing strange ; ' T was pitiful , ' t was wondrous pitiful : She wish'd she had not heard it ; yet ...
... youth suffer'd . My story being done , She gave me , for my pains , a world of sighs : She swore , in faith , ' t was strange , ' t was passing strange ; ' T was pitiful , ' t was wondrous pitiful : She wish'd she had not heard it ; yet ...
Сторінка 18
... youth , and many a maid , Dancing in the chequer'd shade ; And young and old come forth to play On a sun - shine holiday , Till the live - long day - light fail : Then to the spicy nut - brown ale , With stories told of many a feat ...
... youth , and many a maid , Dancing in the chequer'd shade ; And young and old come forth to play On a sun - shine holiday , Till the live - long day - light fail : Then to the spicy nut - brown ale , With stories told of many a feat ...
Сторінка 39
... youth , when every sport could please : How often have I loiter'd o'er thy green , Where humble happiness endear'd each scene ! How often have I paused on every charm , The shelter'd cot , the cultivated farm , The never - failing brook ...
... youth , when every sport could please : How often have I loiter'd o'er thy green , Where humble happiness endear'd each scene ! How often have I paused on every charm , The shelter'd cot , the cultivated farm , The never - failing brook ...
Сторінка 51
... youth in glittering squadrons start ; Sudden the flying jennet wheel , And hurl the unexpected dart . He knew , by the streamers that shot so bright , That spirits were riding the northern light . By a steel - clenched postern door ...
... youth in glittering squadrons start ; Sudden the flying jennet wheel , And hurl the unexpected dart . He knew , by the streamers that shot so bright , That spirits were riding the northern light . By a steel - clenched postern door ...
Сторінка 67
... hear it ? No ; ' t was but the wind , - Or the car rattling o'er the stony street ; On with the dance ! let joy be unconfined : No sleep till morn , when Youth and Pleasure meet , To chase the glowing hours with flying feet- But hark 67.
... hear it ? No ; ' t was but the wind , - Or the car rattling o'er the stony street ; On with the dance ! let joy be unconfined : No sleep till morn , when Youth and Pleasure meet , To chase the glowing hours with flying feet- But hark 67.
Загальні терміни та фрази
Alba Longa Antony beneath blest blood bowers breast breath bright broadsword Brutus Cæsar CANTO charms Cheviot clouds conclave crag Crispian dark dead dear deep Desdemona doom doth dread earth ENGLISH POETRY eternal fair fear fire flowers frae friends gentle grace green grief grove Gudrun hath Hear our solemn heard heart heaven hill holy honourable hope hour hung HYMN Juxta crucem knew lake leave light live LIVERPOOL LOCH KATRINE Lord loud MELROSE ABBEY morn mountain ne'er night nymphs o'er OTHELLO pale Paraclete pass'd peace pilum pity Pleb praise Prioress quake quire rise Rome round Saint SCOTT'S shade sigh sing smile soft solemn litany song sorrow soul speak spirit stood stream sweet swell tears tempest thee thine to-day tree warbling watch wave weary ween weep wept wild wings wish'd wondrous wont wounded wretch
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Сторінка 38 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That had'st thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, —...
Сторінка 44 - Tis now become a history little known, That once we called the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession ! But the record fair, That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Сторінка 41 - Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done, Shoulder'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won. Pleased with his guests, the good man learn'd to glow. And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Сторінка 48 - Then kneeling down, to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays : Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing," That thus they all shall meet in future days : There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear ; While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Сторінка 16 - Hence loathed Melancholy Of Cerberus and blackest midnight born, In Stygian Cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy, Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings...
Сторінка 14 - And portance in my travel's history : Wherein of antres vast, and deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven, It was my hint to speak, such was the process ; And of the Cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders.
Сторінка 11 - tis his will : Let but the commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read) And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue.
Сторінка 44 - Wouldst softly speak, and stroke my head and smile), Could those few pleasant days again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here? I would not trust my heart — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might.
Сторінка 19 - With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence, and judge the prize Of wit or arms, while both contend To win her grace whom all commend. There let Hymen oft appear In saffron robe, with taper clear, And pomp, and feast, and revelry, With mask and antique pageantry ; Such sights as youthful poets dream On summer eves by haunted stream.
Сторінка 8 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honors thick upon him ; The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost ; And — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.