The Poetical Works of Rogers, Campbell, J. Montgomery, Lamb, and Kirke WhiteCarey & Lea, 1830 - 488 Seiten |
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Seite 25
... Death tells it us ? It is Death alone that can suddenly make man to Note 7 , page 12 , col . 2 . When on his couch he sinks at length to rest , Those by his counsel saved , his power redress'd , Those by the World shunn'd ever as ...
... Death tells it us ? It is Death alone that can suddenly make man to Note 7 , page 12 , col . 2 . When on his couch he sinks at length to rest , Those by his counsel saved , his power redress'd , Those by the World shunn'd ever as ...
Seite 37
... death is in the breeze ! " T was now in dismal pomp and order due , While the vast concave flash'd with lightnings blue , On shining pavements of metallic ore , That many an age the fusing sulphur bore , They held high council . All was ...
... death is in the breeze ! " T was now in dismal pomp and order due , While the vast concave flash'd with lightnings blue , On shining pavements of metallic ore , That many an age the fusing sulphur bore , They held high council . All was ...
Seite 42
... death by tongue untold , Deeds such as , breathed in secret there , Had shaken the Confession - chair ! The Eldest swore by our Lady , the Youngest by his conscience ; while the Franciscan , sitting by in his grey habit , turned away ...
... death by tongue untold , Deeds such as , breathed in secret there , Had shaken the Confession - chair ! The Eldest swore by our Lady , the Youngest by his conscience ; while the Franciscan , sitting by in his grey habit , turned away ...
Seite 45
... death , the body lies ! Not long to slumber ! In an evil hour Inform'd and lifted by the unknown Power , It starts , it speaks ! " We live , we breathe no more ! " etc. Many a modern reader will exclaim in the lan- guage of Pococurantè ...
... death , the body lies ! Not long to slumber ! In an evil hour Inform'd and lifted by the unknown Power , It starts , it speaks ! " We live , we breathe no more ! " etc. Many a modern reader will exclaim in the lan- guage of Pococurantè ...
Seite 64
... death . Yes , Byron , thou art gone , Gone like a star that through the firmament Shot and was lost , in its eccentric course Dazzling , perplexing . Yet thy heart , methinks , Was generous , noble - noble in its scorn Of all things low ...
... death . Yes , Byron , thou art gone , Gone like a star that through the firmament Shot and was lost , in its eccentric course Dazzling , perplexing . Yet thy heart , methinks , Was generous , noble - noble in its scorn Of all things low ...
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The Poetical Works of Rogers, Campbell, J. Montgomery, Lamb, and Kirke White ... Samuel Rogers,Thomas Campbell,James Montgomery Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2015 |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
age to age amidst arms art thou beauty behold beneath blest blood bosom breast breath CAPEL LOFFT Charles Lamb charm clouds dark dead death deep delight dream earth eternal father fear fire flame flowers foes gaze gloom glory Gondoline grace grave Greenland grief hand hath heard heart heaven Henry Kirke White hope hour Javan land light living lonely look'd Lord lyre mind moon morning mother mountains Muse Nature's never night Note numbers o'er once pale pass'd peace Petrarch PSALM rapture rest rise rock rose round scene seem'd shade shine shore sigh silent sing sleep slumbers smile song SONNET sorrow soul spirit star stood storm sublime sweet tears tempest thee Theodric thine thou thought tomb trembling turn'd vale Venice vex'd voice wandering waves weep wild wind wings woods youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 138 - There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it; I have killed many; I have fully glutted my vengeance. For my country, I rejoice at the beams of peace; but do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear.
Seite 150 - Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry!
Seite 261 - Kings shall fall down before Him, And gold and incense bring ; 'All nations shall adore Him, His praise all people sing ; For He shall have dominion O'er river, -sea, and shore, Far as the eagle's pinion Or dove's light wing can soar.
Seite 149 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
Seite 148 - I have marshalled my clan : Their swords are a thousand, their bosoms are one ! They are true to the last of their blood and their breath, And like reapers descend to the harvest of death. Then welcome be Cumberland's steed to the shock ! Let him dash his proud foam like a wave on the rock...
Seite 149 - Ye are brothers ! ye are men ! And we conquer but to save ; So peace instead of death let us bring; But yield, proud foe, thy fleet With the crews, at England's feet ; And make submission meet To our king.
Seite 150 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below, As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Seite 153 - O'er mountain, tower, and town, Or mirrored in the ocean vast A thousand fathoms down ! As fresh in yon horizon dark, As young thy beauties seem As when the eagle from the ark First sported in thy beam : For, faithful to its sacred page, Heaven still rebuilds thy span, Nor lets the type grow pale with age That first spoke peace to man.
Seite 150 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Seite 104 - WISH MINE be a cot beside the hill ; A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch, Shall twitter from her clay-built nest; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest.