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admiration appeared beauty born Byron called century character charm close Coleridge critics death delight died doubt Dryden early edition English expression eyes fame father faults feeling felt gained genius give greatest hand happy heart honour hope imagination interest Italy John Jonson judgment known language later learning leave less letters light lines literature live Lord lost lyric marked master means Milton mind nature never noble notes observes once passages perhaps period plays pleasure poct poem poet poet's poetical poetry Pope praise probably published Queene reader Scott seems seen sense Shakespeare Shelley sometimes song sonnets Spenser spirit stand story student style sweet things thou thought true verse volume Wordsworth worthy writes written wrote young youth
Сторінка 316 - Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife ! To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name.
Сторінка 24 - Full little knowest thou, that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide ; To lose good days that might be better spent ; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow ; To feed on hope ; to pine with fear and sorrow ; To have thy Prince's grace, yet want her peers...
Сторінка 188 - Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
Сторінка 92 - They are all gone into the world of light ! And I alone sit lingering here ; Their very memory is fair and bright, And my sad thoughts doth clear. It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, Like stars upon some gloomy grove, Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest, After the sun's remove.
Сторінка 368 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for Heaven's grace and boon; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint...
Сторінка 236 - When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there!
Сторінка 138 - Farewell, happy fields, Where joy for ever dwells ; hail horrors, hail Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell Receive thy new possessor ; one who brings A mind not to be changed by place, or time.
Сторінка 105 - A lily of a day, Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall, and die that night; It was the plant, and flower of light. In small proportions, we just beauties see: And in short measures, life may perfect be.
Сторінка 261 - I forget the hallowed grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met, To live one day of parting love ! Eternity will not efface Those records dear of transports past ; Thy image at our last embrace ; Ah ! little thought we 'twas our last ! Ayr gurgling kissed his pebbled shore, O'erhung with wild woods, thickening, green ; The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar, Twined amorous round the raptured scene.