Favourite English poems and poets1870 - 672 Seiten |
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Seite xiv
... streams of Tiber . Summons all her sweet powers for a note To war and arms I fly • The glories of our birth and state . Through pools and ponds Robin Goodfellow . That kept a brave old house Stag's antlers · So now is come our joyful'st ...
... streams of Tiber . Summons all her sweet powers for a note To war and arms I fly • The glories of our birth and state . Through pools and ponds Robin Goodfellow . That kept a brave old house Stag's antlers · So now is come our joyful'st ...
Seite xix
... stream . The Rapids are near and the daylight is past . As slow our ship her foamy track They come ! the merry summer months . . · BIRKET FOSTER HARRISON WEIR W. THOMAS . BIRKET FOSTER H. WARREN HARRISON WEIR HARRISON WEIR JOHN GILBERT ...
... stream . The Rapids are near and the daylight is past . As slow our ship her foamy track They come ! the merry summer months . . · BIRKET FOSTER HARRISON WEIR W. THOMAS . BIRKET FOSTER H. WARREN HARRISON WEIR HARRISON WEIR JOHN GILBERT ...
Seite 24
... The hart hath hung his old head on the pale ; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings ;. " THE SOOTE SEASON . " Fair Cynthia's silver light , That beats on running streams. 24 HOWARD . 1516-47- FAVOURITE ENGLISH POEMS . The Soote ...
... The hart hath hung his old head on the pale ; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings ;. " THE SOOTE SEASON . " Fair Cynthia's silver light , That beats on running streams. 24 HOWARD . 1516-47- FAVOURITE ENGLISH POEMS . The Soote ...
Seite 26
... . THE SHEPHERD'S COMMENDATION . 1534-1604 . Compares not with her. Fair Cynthia's silver light , That beats on running streams , From the INDUCTION TO A " MIRROUR FOR MAGISTRATES . 26 VERE . 1534-1604 . FAVOURITE ENGLISH POEMS .
... . THE SHEPHERD'S COMMENDATION . 1534-1604 . Compares not with her. Fair Cynthia's silver light , That beats on running streams , From the INDUCTION TO A " MIRROUR FOR MAGISTRATES . 26 VERE . 1534-1604 . FAVOURITE ENGLISH POEMS .
Seite 38
... streaming Thames ; Whose rutty bank , the which his river hems , Was painted all with variable flowers , And all the meads adorn'd with dainty gems Fit to deck maidens ' bowers , And crown their. 38 SPENSER . 1553-95 . FAVOURITE ENGLISH ...
... streaming Thames ; Whose rutty bank , the which his river hems , Was painted all with variable flowers , And all the meads adorn'd with dainty gems Fit to deck maidens ' bowers , And crown their. 38 SPENSER . 1553-95 . FAVOURITE ENGLISH ...
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beauty became birds BIRKET FOSTER born breast breath bright close dead dear death delight died doth earth educated English eyes face fair fall fear field flowers GEORGE give glory grace grave green hand happy hath head hear heart heaven hill hope hour Italy JOHN keep King lady land leave light live look Lord lost mind morn nature never night o'er once pain pass play pleasure poem poet poor praise pride queen rest rise rose round shade shepherd sing sleep smile song soon soul sound spring sweet tears Tell thee thine things THOMAS thou thought took turn voice wander waves wild wind young youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 318 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay. Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made : But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied.
Seite 307 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his fav'rite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn:' THE EPITAPH Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.
Seite 304 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er...
Seite 582 - And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the Presence in the room he said, " What writest thou ?" The Vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, " The names of those who love the Lord." " And is mine one ? " said Abou. " Nay, not so,
Seite 70 - FEAR no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
Seite 419 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
Seite 301 - Await alike th' inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Seite 299 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Seite 494 - Are those her ribs through which the Sun, Did peer, as through a grate ? And is that Woman all her crew ? Is that a DEATH ? and are there two ? Is DEATH that woman's mate ? Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold : Her skin was as white as leprosy, The Night-Mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold. The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice ; " The game is done ! I've won ! I've won ! " Quoth she, and whistles thrice.
Seite 552 - Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy Soul's immensity ; Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind, — Mighty Prophet ! Seer blest ! On whom those truths do rest, Which we are toiling all our lives to find, In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave ; Thou, over whom thy Immortality Broods like the Day, a Master o'er a Slave, A Presence which is not to be put by ;...