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" But here there is no light Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. 1 cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs... "
The Edinburgh magazine, and literary miscellany, a new series of The Scots ... - Сторінка 315
1820
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The Standard poetry book, selected from the best authors

Standard poetry book - 1866 - 274 стор.
...tender is the night, And haply the queen moon is on her throne, Clustej'd around by all her starry fays; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. • v. 1 cannot see what flowers are at my feet, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith...
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Penny readings in prose and verse, selected and ed. by J.E. Carpenter, Том 5

Penny readings - 1866
...is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster' d around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I canjiot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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Moxon's standard penny readings [ed. by T. Hood]., Том 3

Moxon Edward and co
...Tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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Gems of English poetry from Chaucer to the present times, selected and ...

Mary Anne Marzials - 1867 - 295 стор.
...plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease. * » * * I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket,...
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Gems of English poetry from Chaucer to the present times, selected and ...

Mary Anne Marzials - 1867 - 295 стор.
...melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket,...
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A household book of English poetry, selected with notes by R.C. Trench

Richard Chenevix Trench (abp. of Dublin) - 1868
...the night, 35 And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. 40 I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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The Book of Gems: The eighteenth and nineteenth century. Wordsworth to Tennyson

Samuel Carter Hall - 1868
...Qneen-Moon is on her throne, Clnster'd aronnd by all her starry fays; Bnt here there is no light, I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs npon the bonghs, Bnt, in embalmed darkness, gness each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows...
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The public school speaker and reader, ed. by J.E. Carpenter

Joseph Edwards Carpenter - 1869
...is the night, And haply the Queen- Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs uoon the boughs, The Comet. 211 But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable...
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Leaves from the Poets' Laurels

1869 - 220 стор.
...is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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English Literature of Nineteenth Century: On the Plan of the Author's ...

Charles Dexter Cleveland - 1869 - 798 стор.
...him ami knew U. N«xex > Haul, "la a home at the font of High- / <run the voice of death BWeclcr." But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the brcr/c- blown Through verdurous blooms ami winding mossy ways. I cannot Bee what flowers arc at my...
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