Gleanings from the English poets, Chaucer to Tennyson, with biogr. notices of the authors [by R. Inglis].1862 |
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Страница xii
... From " Lochiel's Warning , " 414 Hohenlinden , 415 Exile of Erin , 416 The Soldier's Dream , 417 NOEL THOMAS CARRINGTON , 1777-1830 . The Pixies of Devon , 418 THOMAS MOORE , 1779-1852 . From " The Fire Worshippers xii CONTENTS .
... From " Lochiel's Warning , " 414 Hohenlinden , 415 Exile of Erin , 416 The Soldier's Dream , 417 NOEL THOMAS CARRINGTON , 1777-1830 . The Pixies of Devon , 418 THOMAS MOORE , 1779-1852 . From " The Fire Worshippers xii CONTENTS .
Страница xiii
... Fire Worshippers , " From " The Light of the Harem , " The Bird Let Loose , Oh , Thou , who dry'st the Mourner's tear , Dear Harp of my Country , . EBENEZER ELLIOT , 1781-1849 . The Poor Man's Day , · JANE TAYLOR , 1783–1823 ...
... Fire Worshippers , " From " The Light of the Harem , " The Bird Let Loose , Oh , Thou , who dry'st the Mourner's tear , Dear Harp of my Country , . EBENEZER ELLIOT , 1781-1849 . The Poor Man's Day , · JANE TAYLOR , 1783–1823 ...
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... fire , With mony ane emeraut and fair sapphire ; And on her head a chaplet fresh of hue , Of plumis parted red , and white , and blue . inlaid stones , glittering Full of quaking spangis bright as gold . Forged of shape like to the ...
... fire , With mony ane emeraut and fair sapphire ; And on her head a chaplet fresh of hue , Of plumis parted red , and white , and blue . inlaid stones , glittering Full of quaking spangis bright as gold . Forged of shape like to the ...
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... fire With burning zeale , through every part entire , That in no earthly thing thou shalt delight , But in his sweet and amiable sight . Thenceforth all world's desire will in thee dye , And all Earthe's glorie , on which men do gaze ...
... fire With burning zeale , through every part entire , That in no earthly thing thou shalt delight , But in his sweet and amiable sight . Thenceforth all world's desire will in thee dye , And all Earthe's glorie , on which men do gaze ...
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... fire , but I ; My faultless breast the furnace is , The fuel , wounding thorns ; Love is the fire , and sighs the smoke , The ashes , shames and scorns ; The fuel justice layeth on , And mercy blows the coals The metal in this furnace ...
... fire , but I ; My faultless breast the furnace is , The fuel , wounding thorns ; Love is the fire , and sighs the smoke , The ashes , shames and scorns ; The fuel justice layeth on , And mercy blows the coals The metal in this furnace ...
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Чести термини и фразе
appeared arms beauty beneath Born breath bright clouds dark dead dear death deep delight Died doth earth eyes face fair fall father fear fire flowers friends gave give glory grace grave green hand happy hast head hear heard heart heaven hill hope hour Italy king land leave light live look Lord lost meet mind morning mountains nature never night o'er once pain passed peace pleasure poems poet poor praise pride published rest rise rose round seems seen shade side sigh sleep smile song soon soul sound spirit stream sweet tears tell thee things thou thought till true turn Twas voice wandering wave wild wind wings young youth
Популарни одломци
Страница 251 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay. Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made : But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied.
Страница 429 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes By the deep Sea, and music in its roar : I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.
Страница 50 - ALL the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players : They have their exits and their entrances ; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Страница 228 - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Страница 48 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice...
Страница 252 - 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 79 - When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow; Then boast no more your mighty deeds! Upon Death's purple altar now See where the victor-victim bleeds. Your heads must come To the cold tomb: Only the actions of the just Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.
Страница 51 - Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
Страница 56 - I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee!
Страница 231 - THE EPITAPH. Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth a Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown : fair Science...