Poetic Treasures: Or, Passages from the Poets. Chronologically ArrangedWard, Lock & Company, 1881 - 644 էջ |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 39–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ xxxvii
... blow into the air , where they float in a waving line of beauty . " Amongst the religious poets of this period , we have George Herbert . As a poet , Herbert ( 1593-1633 ) ranks among the metaphysical class belonging to the same school ...
... blow into the air , where they float in a waving line of beauty . " Amongst the religious poets of this period , we have George Herbert . As a poet , Herbert ( 1593-1633 ) ranks among the metaphysical class belonging to the same school ...
Էջ 55
... Blow , wind , and crack your cheeks ! rage , blow ! You cataracts , and hurricanoes , spout Till you have drench'd our steeples , drown'd the cocks ! You sulph'rous and thought - executing fires , Vaunt - couriers to oak - cleaving ...
... Blow , wind , and crack your cheeks ! rage , blow ! You cataracts , and hurricanoes , spout Till you have drench'd our steeples , drown'd the cocks ! You sulph'rous and thought - executing fires , Vaunt - couriers to oak - cleaving ...
Էջ 61
... Blow , blow , thou winter - wind , Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude . Thy tooth is not so keen , Because thou art not seen , Although thy breath be rude . Freeze , freeze , thou bitter sky , Thou dost not bite so nigh As ...
... Blow , blow , thou winter - wind , Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude . Thy tooth is not so keen , Because thou art not seen , Although thy breath be rude . Freeze , freeze , thou bitter sky , Thou dost not bite so nigh As ...
Էջ 62
... blow Air , would I might triumph so ! But , alack ! my hand is sworn , Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn , Vow , alack , for youth unmeet , Youth so apt to pluck a sweet . Do not call it sin in me That I am forsworn for thee : Thou for ...
... blow Air , would I might triumph so ! But , alack ! my hand is sworn , Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn , Vow , alack , for youth unmeet , Youth so apt to pluck a sweet . Do not call it sin in me That I am forsworn for thee : Thou for ...
Էջ 63
... blow , And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow , And Marian's nose looks red and raw . When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl , Then nightly sings the staring ɔwl Too - whit ! too - whoo ! a merry note ...
... blow , And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow , And Marian's nose looks red and raw . When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl , Then nightly sings the staring ɔwl Too - whit ! too - whoo ! a merry note ...
Բովանդակություն
33 | |
50 | |
56 | |
62 | |
75 | |
81 | |
93 | |
99 | |
105 | |
114 | |
122 | |
128 | |
167 | |
171 | |
178 | |
184 | |
185 | |
214 | |
218 | |
225 | |
238 | |
245 | |
256 | |
262 | |
268 | |
274 | |
283 | |
291 | |
297 | |
305 | |
313 | |
319 | |
325 | |
338 | |
346 | |
352 | |
439 | |
446 | |
448 | |
455 | |
464 | |
477 | |
488 | |
498 | |
508 | |
515 | |
532 | |
537 | |
544 | |
550 | |
559 | |
565 | |
572 | |
578 | |
584 | |
588 | |
597 | |
604 | |
616 | |
617 | |
622 | |
628 | |
633 | |
636 | |
637 | |
640 | |
641 | |
642 | |
643 | |
644 | |
Common terms and phrases
beauty birds blest bliss blood blow bosom breast breath bright charms Chaucer Chevy Chase Crazy Jane cried dark dead dear death delight doth dread dream E'en earl Douglas earl Percy earth English poetry Eurydice eyes fair fear flowers frae GILES FLETCHER grace grave green grief hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven honour hope hour Hudibras JOHN GOWER king light live look lord Lycidas lyre maid mind morn muse nature ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er pain peace pleasure poetry poets poor praise rill rise ROBERT SOUTHWELL rose round Saint Serf shade sigh sight sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spring stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought tree trembling Twas vale voice wave weep wild wind wings youth
Սիրված հատվածներ
Էջ 135 - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of Knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works, to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
Էջ 531 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Էջ 163 - 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 39 - This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered, — We few, we happy few, we band of brothers...
Էջ 85 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Էջ 50 - Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us. O, now you weep, and I perceive you feel The dint of pity; these are gracious drops.
Էջ 124 - Where the great Sun begins his state Robed in flames and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight ; While the ploughman, near at hand, Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Էջ 120 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That had'st thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, —...
Էջ 483 - 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. By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, Each horseman drew his battle-blade ; And furious every charger neighed To join the dreadful revelry.
Էջ 22 - Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten: In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move To come to thee, and be thy love.