Gems of English poetry from Chaucer to the present times, selected and arranged by mrs. MarzialsMary Anne Marzials Wesleyan Conference Office, 1867 - 295 Seiten |
Im Buch
Ergebnisse 1-5 von 69
Seite xvii
... never Smiled again 174 The Sculptured Children , on Chantrey's Monument in Lichfield Cathedral .. 176 A Prayer of Affection 177 Marguerite of France 178 HENRY FRANCIS LYTE : Abide with me JOHN KEATS : Dethroned Saturn ..... From " Ode ...
... never Smiled again 174 The Sculptured Children , on Chantrey's Monument in Lichfield Cathedral .. 176 A Prayer of Affection 177 Marguerite of France 178 HENRY FRANCIS LYTE : Abide with me JOHN KEATS : Dethroned Saturn ..... From " Ode ...
Seite 3
... never failed he for rain or thunder , Whenever sickness or mischance might call , The most remote to visit , great or small , And , staff in hand , on foot , the storm to brave . This noble ensample to his flock he gave , That B 2 ...
... never failed he for rain or thunder , Whenever sickness or mischance might call , The most remote to visit , great or small , And , staff in hand , on foot , the storm to brave . This noble ensample to his flock he gave , That B 2 ...
Seite 4
... never set his benefice to hire , Leaving his flock acomber'd in the mire , And ran unto London unto St. Paul's , To seek himself a chauntery for souls , Or with a brotherhood to be enroll'd ; But dwelt at home , and guarded well his ...
... never set his benefice to hire , Leaving his flock acomber'd in the mire , And ran unto London unto St. Paul's , To seek himself a chauntery for souls , Or with a brotherhood to be enroll'd ; But dwelt at home , and guarded well his ...
Seite 6
... never it deserved , To free His foes that from His hest had swerved ! O blessed Well of Love ! O Flower of Grace ! O glorious Morning Star ! O Lamp of Light ! Most lively image of Thy Father's face , Eternal King of Glory , Lord of ...
... never it deserved , To free His foes that from His hest had swerved ! O blessed Well of Love ! O Flower of Grace ! O glorious Morning Star ! O Lamp of Light ! Most lively image of Thy Father's face , Eternal King of Glory , Lord of ...
Seite 8
... Never to hope again . Cromwell , I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me , Out of thy honest truth , to play the woman . Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me , Cromwell , And - when I am ...
... Never to hope again . Cromwell , I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me , Out of thy honest truth , to play the woman . Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me , Cromwell , And - when I am ...
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
angel-light angels beams beauty beneath bless blest bliss bloom Born bosom breast breath bright brow calm child cloud COVENTRY PATMORE crown dark dead dear death deep delight didst Died divine doth dream earth ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ENGLISH POETRY eternal eyes face fair Father fear flame flowers friends glory grace grave hand happy hath hear heart heaven helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre holy hope hour John Anderson King land LICHFIELD CATHEDRAL light live lonely look'd Lord lyre MARGUERITE OF FRANCE mighty morn murmur ne'er never night o'er pale praise pride rest RICHARD CRASHAW rise rose round seem'd shine sigh sight silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star sweet tears thee thine things THOMAS HOOD Thou art thou hast thought throne thy disease Twas unto voice waves weary weep wild winds wings
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 110 - I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Seite 151 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed. The mustering squadron, and the clattering car. Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war...
Seite 30 - Thus with the year Seasons return; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine...
Seite 178 - Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hillside; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?
Seite 37 - The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me : But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it. Here will I hold. If there's a power above us (And that there is, all Nature cries aloud Through all her works), he must delight in virtue ; And that which he delights in must be happy.
Seite 142 - Oft in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me : The smiles, the tears Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken ; The eyes that shone, Now dimm'd and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken ! Thus in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain lias bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me.
Seite 35 - Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks, Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes, That on the green turf suck the honied showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Seite 10 - That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
Seite 242 - Week in, week out, from morn till night You can hear his bellows blow ; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell When the evening sun is low.
Seite 165 - What thou art we know not; What is most like thee? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody. Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...