Gleanings from the Poets: For Home and SchoolCrosby and Nichols, 1855 - 430 Seiten |
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... dear baby , to thee . O , fear not the bugle , though loudly it blows , It calls but the warders that guard thy repose ; Their bows would be bended , their blades would be red , Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed . O , Lush ...
... dear baby , to thee . O , fear not the bugle , though loudly it blows , It calls but the warders that guard thy repose ; Their bows would be bended , their blades would be red , Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed . O , Lush ...
Seite 6
... dear Father above me , And do as I ' m told . Lady Moon , Lady Moon , where are you roving ? Over the sea . Lady Moon , Lady Moon , whom are you loving ? All who love me . THE ORPHAN BROTHER . Miss Lamb . O , HUSH Lady Moon, Love,
... dear Father above me , And do as I ' m told . Lady Moon , Lady Moon , where are you roving ? Over the sea . Lady Moon , Lady Moon , whom are you loving ? All who love me . THE ORPHAN BROTHER . Miss Lamb . O , HUSH Lady Moon, Love,
Seite 7
... dear child , we ' ve lost our mother , That can never trouble thee . You are but ten weeks old to - morrow ; What can you know of our loss ? The house is full enough of sorrow , Little baby , don't be cross . Peace , cry not so , my ...
... dear child , we ' ve lost our mother , That can never trouble thee . You are but ten weeks old to - morrow ; What can you know of our loss ? The house is full enough of sorrow , Little baby , don't be cross . Peace , cry not so , my ...
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... dear , I see The beautiful child Jesus A coming down to me ! " And in his hand he beareth Bright flowers as white as snow , And red and juicy strawberries , Dear mother , let me go ! ” He died but that fond mother Her sorrow did ...
... dear , I see The beautiful child Jesus A coming down to me ! " And in his hand he beareth Bright flowers as white as snow , And red and juicy strawberries , Dear mother , let me go ! ” He died but that fond mother Her sorrow did ...
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... dear little John a while , And bear with him , until he see There is a sweet felicity In pleasing more than only one , Dear little , craving , selfish John . He laughs , and thinks it a fine joke , That he our new wax - doll has broke ...
... dear little John a while , And bear with him , until he see There is a sweet felicity In pleasing more than only one , Dear little , craving , selfish John . He laughs , and thinks it a fine joke , That he our new wax - doll has broke ...
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Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
AUTUMN MUSINGS BATTLE OF BLENHEIM beauty beneath bird Birdie blessed breast breath bright brother brow canst cheer child Crocodile dark dead dear death delight dost doth dream E'en earth fair fairy father fear flowers fly away home glory gone grave green hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Inchcape rock John Barleycorn king Lady Moon lady-bird land Leigh Hunt light live lonely look Lord loud Mabel Mary Howitt MIDSUMMER DAY mind Miss Lamb mother mountain mourn ne'er never night o'er ODE TO DUTY Old English Poetry Patrick Spence poor praise Queen rock round sail Samian wine shining silent sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thou hast thought tree unto voice wandering waves weep wild wind wings wood
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 322 - This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.
Seite 174 - Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. " Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. " Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My music shows ye have your closes, And all must die. "Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like season'd timber, never gives ; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then...
Seite 135 - Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? — They sought a faith's pure shrine ! Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod; They have left unstained what there they found, — Freedom to worship God.
Seite 135 - And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er. When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Seite 320 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake, To perish never; Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy!
Seite 357 - Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go On the light fantastic toe, And in thy right hand lead with thee The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty ; And if I give thee honour due, Mirth, admit me of thy crew To live with her, and live with thee In unreproved pleasures free...
Seite 410 - I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech ; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach.
Seite 365 - And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Seite 156 - SHE was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
Seite 113 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.