A Festival of Art, Poetry and Song: Selections from the Greatest Poets of the English LanguageScammell, 1880 - 392 էջ |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 38–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ xiv
... .. A. F. BELLOWS , N. A. THE CHURCH - Gate ....... J. D. SMILLIE , A .. THE FOUNTAIN ALFRED FREDERICKS , A .......... J. R. BREVOORT , N. A. ANNIE'S DREAM .. NOVEMBER ... M. WATERMAN , A ........ .... Cattle in STREAM viv.
... .. A. F. BELLOWS , N. A. THE CHURCH - Gate ....... J. D. SMILLIE , A .. THE FOUNTAIN ALFRED FREDERICKS , A .......... J. R. BREVOORT , N. A. ANNIE'S DREAM .. NOVEMBER ... M. WATERMAN , A ........ .... Cattle in STREAM viv.
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... stream , Our morning Star of song , that led the way To welcome the long - after coming beam Of Spenser's lights and Shakspeare's perfect day . Old England's fathers live in Chaucer's lay , As if they ne'er had died : he grouped and ...
... stream , Our morning Star of song , that led the way To welcome the long - after coming beam Of Spenser's lights and Shakspeare's perfect day . Old England's fathers live in Chaucer's lay , As if they ne'er had died : he grouped and ...
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... stream so bright , That birds would sing , and think it were not night . What other poet has so felicitously portrayed all that is pictur- esque and lovely in a summer's dawn ; -pouring on our souls all the freshness and cheerfulness of ...
... stream so bright , That birds would sing , and think it were not night . What other poet has so felicitously portrayed all that is pictur- esque and lovely in a summer's dawn ; -pouring on our souls all the freshness and cheerfulness of ...
Էջ 32
... streams ran by her , and murmured her moans ; Sing willow , willow , willow . Her salt tears fell from her , and softened the stones , Sing willow , willow , willow- Sing all a green willow must be my garland . " Reluctantly as we leave ...
... streams ran by her , and murmured her moans ; Sing willow , willow , willow . Her salt tears fell from her , and softened the stones , Sing willow , willow , willow- Sing all a green willow must be my garland . " Reluctantly as we leave ...
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... streams , and fringed with woods , Sits lovely in her native russet . Who is not charmed with the rich quaintness of worthy GEORGE HERBERT ? Here is his fine piece , entitled Virtue : - Sweet day , so cool , so calm , so bright , The ...
... streams , and fringed with woods , Sits lovely in her native russet . Who is not charmed with the rich quaintness of worthy GEORGE HERBERT ? Here is his fine piece , entitled Virtue : - Sweet day , so cool , so calm , so bright , The ...
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Այլ խմբագրություններ - View all
A Festival of Art, Poetry and Song: Selections from the Greatest Poets of ... Frederick Saunders Դիտել հնարավոր չէ - 2008 |
Common terms and phrases
Annabel Lee bard beautiful bell Ben Jonson bird blest bloom blossoms bower breast breath bright Charles Lamb charm clouds dark dear death delight divine doth dreams dull earth dwelling earth eyes Faerie Queene fair fear flowers genius gentle GEOFFREY CHAUCER glory glowing golden grace grave green hair hand happy hath hear heart heaven hour kiss leaves light lines live look lover lyre lyric mind moon morning muse Nature's never night noble numbers nymph o'er old oaken bucket passage passion PHOEBE CARY pleasure poem poet poetic poetry rill rose round shade shining sigh sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit Spring stanzas stars stream summer sweet Tabard tears tell thee thine thou thought Tipsy band trees Twas Tybalt verse voice wave weary weep wild wind wings youth
Սիրված հատվածներ
Էջ 315 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man. 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.
Էջ 39 - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Էջ 21 - 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 undiscovered 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?
Էջ 220 - 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 dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken! Thus in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Sad memory brings the light Of other days around me.
Էջ 44 - You haste away so soon: As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing. We die, As your hours do, and dry Away Like to the Summer's rain; Or as the pearls of morning's dew, Ne'er to be found again.
Էջ 83 - Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us; 'Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man.
Էջ 135 - He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all. And, as a bird each fond endearment tries, To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Էջ 31 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments : love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove : O no ; it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests, and is never shaken ; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth 's unknown, although his height be taken.
Էջ 36 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill: But their strong nerves at last must yield; They tame but one another still: Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death.
Էջ 274 - That orbed maiden, with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn ; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer...