Little Masterpieces of English Poetry: Elegies and hymnsHenry Van Dyke, Hardin Craig Doubleday, Page, 1905 |
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Страница 14
... praise . Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust , Or Flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of Death ? Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once ...
... praise . Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust , Or Flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of Death ? Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once ...
Страница 54
... praise , Phoebus repli'd , and touch'd my trembling ears ; Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil , Nor in the glistering foil Set off to th'world , nor in broad rumour lies , 80 But lives and spreds aloft by those pure eyes , And ...
... praise , Phoebus repli'd , and touch'd my trembling ears ; Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil , Nor in the glistering foil Set off to th'world , nor in broad rumour lies , 80 But lives and spreds aloft by those pure eyes , And ...
Страница 70
... praise , And dreams of youth , and truth , and love , With " Logan's " banks and braes . 80 And when he breathes his master - lay Of Alloway's witch - haunted wall , All passions in our frames of clay Come thronging at his call . 84 ...
... praise , And dreams of youth , and truth , and love , With " Logan's " banks and braes . 80 And when he breathes his master - lay Of Alloway's witch - haunted wall , All passions in our frames of clay Come thronging at his call . 84 ...
Страница 71
... not bow , 88 92 96 100 104 Were written in his manly eye And on his manly brow . Praise to the bard ! his words are driven , Like flower - seeds by the far winds sown , 108 Where'er beneath the sky of heaven , The birds of 71 Burns.
... not bow , 88 92 96 100 104 Were written in his manly eye And on his manly brow . Praise to the bard ! his words are driven , Like flower - seeds by the far winds sown , 108 Where'er beneath the sky of heaven , The birds of 71 Burns.
Страница 72
... Praise to the man ! a nation stood Beside his coffin with wet eyes , Her brave , her beautiful , her good , As when a loved one dies . 112 116 And still , as on his funeral - day , Men stand his cold earth - couch around , With the mute ...
... Praise to the man ! a nation stood Beside his coffin with wet eyes , Her brave , her beautiful , her good , As when a loved one dies . 112 116 And still , as on his funeral - day , Men stand his cold earth - couch around , With the mute ...
Друга издања - Прикажи све
Чести термини и фразе
abide behold beneath bless brave breast breath bright Burns calm child Christe receive thy cold comfort dark dead dear death DIRGE dost doth dream Duchess of Malfi dust earth Elegy EPITAPH eternal eyes fame farewell fear feel flowers giveth his beloved-sleep glory grave grief hand harbor at last hast hath hear heart heaven HENRY VAN DYKE Henry Vaughan HYMNS John Campbell Shairp John Greenleaf Whittier John Keble JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE laid life's light live Lord Lycidas LYKE-WAKE DIRGE Matthew Arnold morn mortal Mourn night o'er old familiar faces poetry praise prayer receive thy saule rest rose round Rugby Chapel shade shine shore silent sing sleep smile solemn song soul stars strife Sweet Spirit tears thee thine thought Thyrsis tomb tree unto verse voice Walter Savage Landor weary weep winds wood youth ΙΟ
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Страница 98 - For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths— for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead.
Страница 50 - In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the Saints above In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Страница 10 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Страница 12 - The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Страница 4 - Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Страница 109 - THREE years she grew in sun and shower; Then Nature said, " A lovelier flower On earth was never sown; This Child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make A Lady of my own. " Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse: and with me The Girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain.
Страница 48 - That to the faithful herdman's art belongs ! What recks it them ? What need they ? They are sped ; And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw ; The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said : But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
Страница 96 - Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise.
Страница 134 - REQUIEM UNDER the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be ; Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
Страница 46 - Alas ! what boots it with incessant care To tend the homely, slighted, shepherd's trade And strictly meditate the thankless Muse? Were it not better done, as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair?