The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English LanguageMacmillan, 1889 - 405 страница |
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Страница xi
... hands , and in days far distant . Chalmers ' vast collection , with the whole works of all accessible poets not contained in it , and the best Anthologies of different periods , have been twice sys- tematically read through : and it is ...
... hands , and in days far distant . Chalmers ' vast collection , with the whole works of all accessible poets not contained in it , and the best Anthologies of different periods , have been twice sys- tematically read through : and it is ...
Страница 3
... hand defaced When sometime lofty towers I see down - razed , And brass eternal slave to mortal rage ; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore , And the firm soil win of the watery main , Increasing ...
... hand defaced When sometime lofty towers I see down - razed , And brass eternal slave to mortal rage ; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore , And the firm soil win of the watery main , Increasing ...
Страница 4
... hand can hold his swift foot back , Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid ? O ! none , unless this miracle have might , That in black ink my love may still shine bright . W. Shakespeare V THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE OME live ...
... hand can hold his swift foot back , Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid ? O ! none , unless this miracle have might , That in black ink my love may still shine bright . W. Shakespeare V THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE OME live ...
Страница 11
... hand , Steal from his figure , and no pace perceived ; So your sweet hue , which methinks still doth stand , Hath motion , and mine eye may be deceived : - For fear of which , hear this , thou age unbred , Ere you were born , was ...
... hand , Steal from his figure , and no pace perceived ; So your sweet hue , which methinks still doth stand , Hath motion , and mine eye may be deceived : - For fear of which , hear this , thou age unbred , Ere you were born , was ...
Страница 15
... the chronicle of wasted time WE I see descriptions of the fairest wights , And beauty making beautiful old rhyme In praise of ladies dead , and lovely knights ; Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best Of hand Book First 15.
... the chronicle of wasted time WE I see descriptions of the fairest wights , And beauty making beautiful old rhyme In praise of ladies dead , and lovely knights ; Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best Of hand Book First 15.
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adieu Love Arethuse beauty behold beneath birds blest bonnie bower breast breath bright Brignall brow cheek chidden clouds County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dream earth ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA eyes fair Fancy fear flowers frae gentle glory Gray green happy hast hath Hazeldean hear heard heart heaven Heigh hills Kirconnell kiss ladies leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Byron love's lover Lycidas lyre maid mind morn mountains Muse ne'er never night nonny Nymph o'er P. B. Shelley pale passion Pindar pleasure poems poet Poetry Rosaline rose round Rule Britannia seem'd shade Shakespeare shore sigh sight sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star stream sweet tears thee There's thine thou art thought tree voice waly waly waves weep wild winds wings Wordsworth Yarrow youth
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Страница 22 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's •waste...
Страница 174 - Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. Th...
Страница 76 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere: 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.
Страница 21 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted...
Страница 353 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce. My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!
Страница 356 - THE world is too much with us: late and 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 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.
Страница 6 - Under the Greenwood Tree Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i...
Страница 66 - Bitter constraint and sad occasion dear Compels me to disturb your season due; For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer. Who would not sing for Lycidas?
Страница 91 - Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst 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 ; How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous, sweet, and fair.
Страница 192 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea I am lord of the fowl and the brute. 0 Solitude ! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms Than reign in this horrible place.