Poetry for children, selected by L. Aikin1806 |
Im Buch
Ergebnisse 1-5 von 14
Seite 1
... chat . When , hark ! a gentle hand they hear Low tapping at the bolted door , And thus , to gain their willing ear , A feeble voice was heard t ' implore : B Cold The Beggar Man . " Cold blows the blast across THE Beggar.
... chat . When , hark ! a gentle hand they hear Low tapping at the bolted door , And thus , to gain their willing ear , A feeble voice was heard t ' implore : B Cold The Beggar Man . " Cold blows the blast across THE Beggar.
Seite 4
... hear ; Hast thou a star to guide thy path , Or mark the rolling year ? Delightful visitant ! with thee I hail the time of flowers , When heaven is filled with music sweet Of birds among the bowers . The schoolboy wandering in the wood ...
... hear ; Hast thou a star to guide thy path , Or mark the rolling year ? Delightful visitant ! with thee I hail the time of flowers , When heaven is filled with music sweet Of birds among the bowers . The schoolboy wandering in the wood ...
Seite 6
... hear , Prophet of the ripened year ! To thee of all things upon earth , Life is no longer than thy mirth . Happy insect , happy , thou Dost neither age nor winter know . But when thou'st drunk , and danced and sung Thy fill , the ...
... hear , Prophet of the ripened year ! To thee of all things upon earth , Life is no longer than thy mirth . Happy insect , happy , thou Dost neither age nor winter know . But when thou'st drunk , and danced and sung Thy fill , the ...
Seite 8
... , And could I always keep awake With me ' t were always day . With heavy sighs I often hear You mourn my hapless woe ; But sure with patience I can bear A loss I ne'er can know . Then The Robin . Then let not what I cannot have The Blind.
... , And could I always keep awake With me ' t were always day . With heavy sighs I often hear You mourn my hapless woe ; But sure with patience I can bear A loss I ne'er can know . Then The Robin . Then let not what I cannot have The Blind.
Seite 11
... hear my vocal reed ; And how with critic face profound , And steadfast ear , devour'd the sound . His every frolic , light as air , Deserves the gentle Delia's care ; And tears bedew her tender eye To think the playful kid must die . 11 ...
... hear my vocal reed ; And how with critic face profound , And steadfast ear , devour'd the sound . His every frolic , light as air , Deserves the gentle Delia's care ; And tears bedew her tender eye To think the playful kid must die . 11 ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
æther Alps beneath birds blessings bloom bosom breast breath breeze bright bursts busy busy Bee cheerful clouds cold courser crown'd delight dewy distant DRYDEN DRYDEN'S VIRGIL earth Ev'n ev'ry eyes father William flocks flood flower fragrant gale glory golden GRAMPUS green ground groves hare Hare and Tortoise heart Heaven hills Hippopotamus horns huntsman hyæna kiss of love lark light limbs lonely marmot mead mighty heart morn mountains murmur night o'er Orphan Boy painted banks pass'd Piedmontese pine-apples plain POPE'S HOMER pride Propontis rage rise roar rocks roll rubies rich sails shade shepherd shining shore shower silver pheasant sings skies sleep smiling snow song sound spread spring storms stream swain sweet swell tawny eagle tear tempest thee thou busy busy thro thrush tide toil torrent tortoise trees trembling vale vernal WAR HORSE warbling wave wide winds wings Winter woods young youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 18 - HAPPY the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire ; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire.
Seite 67 - See the wretch that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigour lost, And breathe and walk again ; The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening paradise.
Seite 104 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Seite 4 - O tell your poor blind boy ! You talk of wondrous things you see, You say the sun shines bright ; I feel him warm, but how can he Or make it day or night ? My day or night myself I make Whene'er I sleep or play ; And could I ever keep awake With me 'twere always day. With heavy sighs I often hear You mourn my hapless woe ; But sure with patience I can bear A loss I ne'er can know.
Seite 55 - Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, When first from Schiraz
Seite 31 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny ; You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face, You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve : Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Seite 144 - No tree in all the grove but has its charms, Though each its hue peculiar...
Seite 102 - What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted ! Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just ; And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
Seite 48 - While from the bounded level of our mind Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind ; But more...
Seite 120 - Silently as a dream the fabric rose; No sound of hammer or of saw was there.