Little Classics, Том 13Rossiter Johnson Houghton, Mifflin, 1875 |
Из књиге
Резултати 1-5 од 12
Страница 49
... hope , or legend old , Or song heroically bold ; But even these at length grew cold . Our voices took a dreary tone , An echo of the dungeon stone , A grating sound , — not full and free , As they of yore were wont to be : It might be ...
... hope , or legend old , Or song heroically bold ; But even these at length grew cold . Our voices took a dreary tone , An echo of the dungeon stone , A grating sound , — not full and free , As they of yore were wont to be : It might be ...
Страница 54
... hope my own to raise , For I was sunk in silence , - lost In this last loss , of all the most ; And then the sighs he would suppress Of fainting nature's feebleness , More slowly drawn , grew less and less : I listened , but I could not ...
... hope my own to raise , For I was sunk in silence , - lost In this last loss , of all the most ; And then the sighs he would suppress Of fainting nature's feebleness , More slowly drawn , grew less and less : I listened , but I could not ...
Страница 55
... hope , but faith , And that forbade a selfish death . IX . What next befell me then and there I know not well , - I never knew , First came the loss of light , and air , And then of darkness too : I had no thought , no feeling , none ...
... hope , but faith , And that forbade a selfish death . IX . What next befell me then and there I know not well , - I never knew , First came the loss of light , and air , And then of darkness too : I had no thought , no feeling , none ...
Страница 60
... hope my eyes to raise And clear them of their dreary mote ; At last men came to set me free ; I asked not why , and recked not where ; It was at length the same to me , Fettered or fetterless to be , I learned to love despair . And thus ...
... hope my eyes to raise And clear them of their dreary mote ; At last men came to set me free ; I asked not why , and recked not where ; It was at length the same to me , Fettered or fetterless to be , I learned to love despair . And thus ...
Страница 75
... hope was dead , When mass for Kilmeny's soul had been sung , When the bedes - man had prayed , and the dead - bell rung ; Late , late in a gloamin ' , when all was still , When the fringe was red on the westlin hill , - The wood was ...
... hope was dead , When mass for Kilmeny's soul had been sung , When the bedes - man had prayed , and the dead - bell rung ; Late , late in a gloamin ' , when all was still , When the fringe was red on the westlin hill , - The wood was ...
Чести термини и фразе
Agnes Astur Beadsman beneath Bingen bird blest blood bowers brave breast breath bright brow charms cloud Clusium cold cried Cutty-sark dark dead dear deep door dream earth EUGENE ARAM Excalibur eyes fair fear fell fierce fled flew flowers frae gaze green grew hand hath heard heart heaven Horatius hung Kilmeny King King Arthur land land of mist Lars Porsena Lartius light lonely looked loud maiden moon morn mystery the spirit never Nevermore night O'Connor's o'er Ocnus pale Peri place is haunted plain as whisper Porphyro Quoth Quoth the raven raven Rhine rolling cloud rose round sails Sensitive Plant shadow ship shone sigh silent Sir Bedivere sleep smile soul sound spake spirit daunted star stood sweet tears thee thine thing THOMAS HOOD thou thought voice wall Wedding-Guest weep wept wild wind wings
Популарни одломци
Страница 27 - Nor any drop to drink. The very deep did rot : O Christ ! That ever this should be ! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea.
Страница 10 - Remembrance wakes with all her busy train, Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain. In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs — and God has given my share — I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown, Amidst, these humble bowers to lay me down...
Страница 151 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend ! " I shrieked, upstarting: " Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken ! quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door ! " Quoth the Raven,
Страница 207 - More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
Страница 36 - Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the Sun; Slowly the sounds came back again, Now mixed, now one by one. Sometimes a-dropping from the sky I heard the skylark sing; Sometimes all little birds that are, How they seemed to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning! And now 'twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song, That makes the heavens be mute.
Страница 13 - At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorned the venerable place; Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray.
Страница 8 - The dancing pair that simply sought renown, By holding out to tire each other down...
Страница 34 - The upper air burst into life, And a hundred fire-flags sheen To and fro they were hurried about ; And to and fro, and in and out The wan stars danced between. And the coming wind did roar more loud ; And the sails did sigh like sedge : And the rain poured down from one black cloud The moon was at its edge.
Страница 12 - Careless their merits, or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began. Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his" failings leaned to virtue's side ; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all.
Страница 149 - But the Raven still beguiling All my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in Front of bird and bust and door ; Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking What this ominous bird of yore — What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, Gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking