Ballads and LyricsHoughton, Mifflin and Company, 1880 - 394 страница |
Из књиге
Резултати 1-5 од 14
Страница 31
... comes frozen home in pail , When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul , Then nightly sings the staring owl , Tu - who , a merry note , Tu - whit ; While greasy Joan doth keel the pot . When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns ...
... comes frozen home in pail , When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul , Then nightly sings the staring owl , Tu - who , a merry note , Tu - whit ; While greasy Joan doth keel the pot . When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns ...
Страница 75
... comes , a pilgrim gray , To bless the turf that wraps their clay , And Freedom shall awhile repair To dwell a weeping hermit there ! WILLIAM COLLINS . This was the period of the war between Great Britain and Spain . 2 WILLIAM COLLINS ...
... comes , a pilgrim gray , To bless the turf that wraps their clay , And Freedom shall awhile repair To dwell a weeping hermit there ! WILLIAM COLLINS . This was the period of the war between Great Britain and Spain . 2 WILLIAM COLLINS ...
Страница 103
... comes not again ! The vows thou hast broke , On the wild currents fling them ; On the quicksand and rock Let the mermaidens sing them ; New sweetness they ' ll give her Bewildering strain ; But there's one who will never Believe them ...
... comes not again ! The vows thou hast broke , On the wild currents fling them ; On the quicksand and rock Let the mermaidens sing them ; New sweetness they ' ll give her Bewildering strain ; But there's one who will never Believe them ...
Страница 148
... comes to the rock Won't bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok . " Sir Ralph the Rover sailed away ; He scoured the seas for many a day ; And now , grown rich with plundered store , He steers his course for Scotland's shore . So thick a haze o ...
... comes to the rock Won't bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok . " Sir Ralph the Rover sailed away ; He scoured the seas for many a day ; And now , grown rich with plundered store , He steers his course for Scotland's shore . So thick a haze o ...
Страница 163
... comes no cheering , To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary ; But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory . The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest ; But our flower was in ...
... comes no cheering , To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary ; But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory . The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest ; But our flower was in ...
Садржај
240 | |
255 | |
267 | |
297 | |
303 | |
304 | |
310 | |
311 | |
131 | |
138 | |
144 | |
150 | |
160 | |
167 | |
176 | |
182 | |
189 | |
198 | |
201 | |
206 | |
227 | |
320 | |
330 | |
337 | |
343 | |
372 | |
381 | |
383 | |
384 | |
388 | |
389 | |
390 | |
Друга издања - Прикажи све
Чести термини и фразе
ALFRED TENNYSON Auf Wiedersehen banner battle bells beneath Bingen blessed blood blow Bonny Dundee born brave breast breath bright brow cried Cusha dark dead dear death deep died door dream earth England eyes fair fame father fell gallant gaze Gilpin gleam glory grave gray hand hath hear heard heart heaven HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW Highlands hills horse Inchcape Rock J. G. LOCKHART John King lady land Lars Porsena light lips looked Lord LORD BYRON loud maiden morning mountain never night Norsemen o'er OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES pale pibroch poems Quoth ride Ring ROBERT BURNS rock rode rose round Samian wine shore silent sing SIR WALTER SCOTT smile snow song sorrow soul sound spake steed stood storm sweet sword tears tell tempest thee There's thet thou tide tower town Victor Galbraith voice waves wild wind
Популарни одломци
Страница 40 - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Страница 67 - Th' applause of list'ning senates to command. The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes.
Страница 54 - And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Страница 46 - To hear the lark begin his flight And singing startle the dull night From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise; Then to come, in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good-morrow Through the sweetbriar, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine...
Страница 31 - 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 crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Страница 279 - Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die. Into the valley of death Rode the six hundred. " Cannon to right of them ; Cannon to left of them; Cannon in front of them, Volley'd and thunder*d.
Страница 142 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
Страница 116 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
Страница 42 - 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 hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
Страница 176 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.