The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English LanguageFrancis Turner Palgrave Macmillan and Company, 1886 - 346 страница |
Из књиге
Резултати 1-5 од 65
Страница
... beauty which the eye cannot see , and the music only heard in silence . If this Collection proves a storehouse of delight to Labour and to Poverty , — if it teaches those indifferent to the Poets to love them , and those who love them ...
... beauty which the eye cannot see , and the music only heard in silence . If this Collection proves a storehouse of delight to Labour and to Poverty , — if it teaches those indifferent to the Poets to love them , and those who love them ...
Страница
... Old and New , like rapid alteration of the eye's focus in looking at the landscape , will always be wearisome and hurtful fore distributed into Books corresponding , I to the ninety to the sense of Beauty . The poems have been there-
... Old and New , like rapid alteration of the eye's focus in looking at the landscape , will always be wearisome and hurtful fore distributed into Books corresponding , I to the ninety to the sense of Beauty . The poems have been there-
Страница
... beauty , a tenderness of feeling , or seriousness in reflection , which render their works , although never perhaps attaining that loftier and finer excellence here required , -better worth reading than much of what fills the scanty ...
... beauty , a tenderness of feeling , or seriousness in reflection , which render their works , although never perhaps attaining that loftier and finer excellence here required , -better worth reading than much of what fills the scanty ...
Страница 3
... beauty hold a plea , Whose action is no stronger than a flower ? O how shall summer's honey breath hold out Against the wreckful siege of battering days , When rocks impregnable are not so stout Nor gates of steel so strong , but time ...
... beauty hold a plea , Whose action is no stronger than a flower ? O how shall summer's honey breath hold out Against the wreckful siege of battering days , When rocks impregnable are not so stout Nor gates of steel so strong , but time ...
Страница 9
... beauty still . Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers ' pride ; Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd In process of the season have I seen , Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd , Since first I ...
... beauty still . Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers ' pride ; Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd In process of the season have I seen , Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd , Since first I ...
Друга издања - Прикажи све
Чести термини и фразе
art thou auld Robin Gray beauty behold beneath birds blest bliss bonnie bower breast breath bright Brignall brow cheek County Guy dead dear death delight dost doth dream earth ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA eyes fair fear feel flowers frae gentle glory gone grace Gray green Greta woods happy hast hath Hazeldean hear heard heart heaven hour kiss lady leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Byron Lycidas lyre maiden Mermaid Tavern mind morn mountain ne'er never night nymphs o'er P. B. Shelley pale passion Pindar pleasure poets rose round S. T. Coleridge seem'd shade Shakespeare shore sigh sight sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star sweet tears tell thee There's thine thou art thought tree Twas voice waly waly waves weep wild winds wings Wordsworth Yarrow youth
Популарни одломци
Страница 187 - Hence in a season of calm weather Though inland far we be, Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the Children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Страница 119 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love. A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
Страница 185 - The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose, The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare, Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
Страница 188 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; In a cowslip's bell I lie : There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Страница 10 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day ? Thou art more lovely and more temperate : Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
Страница 49 - Neaera's hair ? Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights and live laborious days ; But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, And slits the thin-spun life.
Страница 6 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee...
Страница 135 - Stern Lawgiver ! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace ; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face : Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads ; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.
Страница 140 - O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Страница 157 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!