The new poetical reader, ed. by J.C. CurtisJohn Charles Curtis 1872 - 160 Seiten |
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Seite 22
... breathe , and brighter seasons smile , There sits quiescent on the floods , that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below , While airs impregnated with incense play Around her , fanning light her streamers gay ; So thou , with ...
... breathe , and brighter seasons smile , There sits quiescent on the floods , that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below , While airs impregnated with incense play Around her , fanning light her streamers gay ; So thou , with ...
Seite 29
... breath'd a word ; And never earth's philosopher Traced with his golden pen , On the deathless page , truths half so sage As he wrote down for men . And had he not high honour , — The hill - side for a pall , To lie in state , while ...
... breath'd a word ; And never earth's philosopher Traced with his golden pen , On the deathless page , truths half so sage As he wrote down for men . And had he not high honour , — The hill - side for a pall , To lie in state , while ...
Seite 35
... breath of eager joy , The proffer'd pure embraces : - What can I then but take the gift , The love you lavish free ? - -In you the days of Childhood May yet return to me . LATE , LATE .-- Tennyson . LATE , late , so late ! and dark the ...
... breath of eager joy , The proffer'd pure embraces : - What can I then but take the gift , The love you lavish free ? - -In you the days of Childhood May yet return to me . LATE , LATE .-- Tennyson . LATE , late , so late ! and dark the ...
Seite 40
... breath , For well they knew the hero's soul Was face to face with death . And then a mournful shudder Through all the people crept , And some that came to scoff at him , Now turned aside and wept . * * * * * * They placed him next ...
... breath , For well they knew the hero's soul Was face to face with death . And then a mournful shudder Through all the people crept , And some that came to scoff at him , Now turned aside and wept . * * * * * * They placed him next ...
Seite 49
... Blazing with light , and breathing with perfume . There on the dais sat another king , Wearing his robes , his crown , his signet - ring , D King Robert's self in features , form , and height The New Poetical Reader . 49.
... Blazing with light , and breathing with perfume . There on the dais sat another king , Wearing his robes , his crown , his signet - ring , D King Robert's self in features , form , and height The New Poetical Reader . 49.
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Angel Art thou Arth Avés beneath Birkenhead blast blood brave breast breath bright brow calm child Church of Brou cloud Crom Cromwell crown Dalhem Danube dark days of Childhood dead dear death deep dream Duchess earth England eyes F. T. Palgrave fair falchion fear flower gallant galloped giveth His beloved glory golden grace grave hand Hark hath head hear heard heart heaven Her's hill honour Hubert King Robert light look Lord Lucknow mighty mighty heart morning mother mountain Neath never night o'er old oaken bucket pibroch prayer rest rock roll round Saint Andrew's cross Saint Peter's square shalt shine shore shout Sicily sight silence sing sleep smile Somebody's Darling song soul sound strife sweet SWEET day tears thee thine thou art thought thunder thunderpeal tomb trees Valmond voice wave weep wept wild wind
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 136 - Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touched his body, that did stab, And not for justice ? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
Seite 93 - Ye Ice-falls ! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain — Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge ! Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts ! Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? — God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer ! and let the ice-plains echo,...
Seite 138 - I could weep My spirit from mine eyes ! There is my dagger, And here my naked breast; within, a heart Dearer than Plutus...
Seite 92 - Thou first and chief, sole sovereign of the Vale ! O struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky or when they sink...
Seite 24 - That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure; For often, at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing 1 And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell ; Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well — The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket arose from the well.
Seite 109 - — and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone ; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets
Seite 105 - Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend. But is there for the night a resting-place? A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face? You cannot miss that inn.
Seite 107 - I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he ; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three ; " Good speed ! " cried the watch, as the gatebolts undrew ; "Speed...
Seite 122 - The sun was gone now ; the curled moon Was like a little feather Fluttering far down the gulf ; and now She spoke through the still weather. Her voice was like the voice the stars Had when they sang together.
Seite 70 - OH, TO BE in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England - now...