Selections from the British Poets, Том 2Harper & brothers, 1840 |
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Страница 18
... sad vicissitude amused his soul : And if a sigh would sometimes intervene , And down his cheek a tear of pity roll , A sigh , a tear so sweet he wish'd not to control . " Oh ye wild groves , oh where is now 18 JAMES BEATTIE .
... sad vicissitude amused his soul : And if a sigh would sometimes intervene , And down his cheek a tear of pity roll , A sigh , a tear so sweet he wish'd not to control . " Oh ye wild groves , oh where is now 18 JAMES BEATTIE .
Страница 28
... SWEET Auburn ! loveliest village of the plain , Where health and plenty cheer'd the lab'ring swain , Where smiling Spring its earliest visit paid , And parting Summer's ling'ring blooms delay'd : Dear lovely bow'rs of innocence and ease ...
... SWEET Auburn ! loveliest village of the plain , Where health and plenty cheer'd the lab'ring swain , Where smiling Spring its earliest visit paid , And parting Summer's ling'ring blooms delay'd : Dear lovely bow'rs of innocence and ease ...
Страница 29
... sweet village ! sports like these , With sweet succession , taught e'en toil to please ; These round thy bow'rs their cheerful influence shed , These were thy charms - but all these charms are fled . Sweet smiling village , loveliest of ...
... sweet village ! sports like these , With sweet succession , taught e'en toil to please ; These round thy bow'rs their cheerful influence shed , These were thy charms - but all these charms are fled . Sweet smiling village , loveliest of ...
Страница 30
... Sweet Auburn ! parent of the blissful hour , Thy glades forlorn confess the tyrant's pow'r . Here , as I take my solitary rounds , Amid thy tangling walks and ruin'd grounds , And , many a year elapsed , return to view Where once the ...
... Sweet Auburn ! parent of the blissful hour , Thy glades forlorn confess the tyrant's pow'r . Here , as I take my solitary rounds , Amid thy tangling walks and ruin'd grounds , And , many a year elapsed , return to view Where once the ...
Страница 31
... Sweet was the sound , when oft , at ev'ning's close , Up yonder hill the village murmur rose ; There , as I pass'd with careless steps and slow , The mingling notes came soften'd from below ; The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung ...
... Sweet was the sound , when oft , at ev'ning's close , Up yonder hill the village murmur rose ; There , as I pass'd with careless steps and slow , The mingling notes came soften'd from below ; The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung ...
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art thou auld lang syne beauty beneath bless'd bloom bosom bower Branksome Hall breast breath bright brow burst of joy calm charms cheek clouds dark dead dear death deep delight dread dream earth Elderslie ev'ry fair fame fancy fled flowers fond frae gaze gentle grave green happy harp hath hear heart Heaven hill hope hour John Gilpin JOSEPH ATKINSON Kilmeny land light living Lochiel lonely look Lord lyre Marmion mirth morn mountain murmur muse Nature's ne'er never night nymph o'er pass'd peace PIBROCH pleasure pow'r pride rapture rill rose round scene seem'd shade shine shore sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star stream sweet tears thee thine thou art thought Twas vale voice wandering wave weary weep wild wind wings Yarrow youth
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Страница 166 - 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. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet or in shroud we wound him, But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
Страница 152 - 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, and the fruit-tree wild ; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine ; Fast-fading violets cover'd up in leaves ; And mid-May's eldest child The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Страница 179 - But oh, that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover ! A savage place ! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover...
Страница 32 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.
Страница 198 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, - alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe And burning with high hope shall moulder cold and low.
Страница 196 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gather'd then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush!
Страница 33 - Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, The love he bore to learning was in fault; The village all declared how much he knew, 'Twas certain he could write and cipher too; Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage, And e'en the story ran that he could gauge...
Страница 167 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him ! But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring, And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Страница 207 - SHE walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies ; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes : Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Страница 155 - O attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, Beauty is truth, truth beauty,— that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.