Woodland and Wild: A Selection of Descriptive PoetrySeeley, Jackson, and Halliday, 1868 - 132 páginas |
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Página 37
... swelling floods , And hamlets brown , and dim - discover'd spires , And hears their simple bell , and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw While Spring shall pour his showers , as oft he. The gradual dusky veil . When the sweet dew ...
... swelling floods , And hamlets brown , and dim - discover'd spires , And hears their simple bell , and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw While Spring shall pour his showers , as oft he. The gradual dusky veil . When the sweet dew ...
Página 46
... swelling on In slow and silent , dim and deepening waves . W. S. Landor . THE NIGHTS . H the summer night Has a smile of light And she sits on a sapphire throne ; Whilst the sweet winds load her With garlands of odour , From the bud to ...
... swelling on In slow and silent , dim and deepening waves . W. S. Landor . THE NIGHTS . H the summer night Has a smile of light And she sits on a sapphire throne ; Whilst the sweet winds load her With garlands of odour , From the bud to ...
Página 51
... swelling breast , And the gentle curve of its lowly crest ; And I often stop with the fear I feel- He runs so close to the rapid wheel . Whatever is rung on that noisy bell- Chime of the hour or funeral knell- The dove in the belfry ...
... swelling breast , And the gentle curve of its lowly crest ; And I often stop with the fear I feel- He runs so close to the rapid wheel . Whatever is rung on that noisy bell- Chime of the hour or funeral knell- The dove in the belfry ...
Página 74
... swelling Ower the kirk - yard o ' Denholm , last summer sae green , The infant had died at the breast o ' its mither ; The cradle stood still at the mitherless bed ; At play the bairn sunk in the hand o ' its brither ; At the fauld on ...
... swelling Ower the kirk - yard o ' Denholm , last summer sae green , The infant had died at the breast o ' its mither ; The cradle stood still at the mitherless bed ; At play the bairn sunk in the hand o ' its brither ; At the fauld on ...
Página 88
... swelling as it sleeps , Then slowly sinking ; curling to the strand , Faint , lazy waves o'ercreep the ridgy sand , Or tap the tarry boat with gentle blow , And back return in silence , smooth and slow . Ships in the calm seem anchor'd ...
... swelling as it sleeps , Then slowly sinking ; curling to the strand , Faint , lazy waves o'ercreep the ridgy sand , Or tap the tarry boat with gentle blow , And back return in silence , smooth and slow . Ships in the calm seem anchor'd ...
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Palavras e frases frequentes
A. H. Clough Autumn beauty beneath birds blast blue bough bower breast breath breeze bright brook buds busy bee calm Christina Rossetti cloud crimson skies curious pastime dead deep delight doth dream earth faint fair fall feet flowers forest fresh gale gentle glad gleam glen glowworm golden grass green grove happy hath hear heard heart heaven hills Isa Craig lazy Kate leaf leaves light LIME BLOSSOMS lonely loud March month moon morning mountain murmuring nest night nook o'er ocean pale pinx rain rills rise river Rosa Bonheur rose round S. T. Coleridge shade shine side silent sing skies sleep smile snow soft song spring stars stream summer sweet swelling thee ther things thou art thou busy thought thunder tree vale voice vrom wake waves wild wind wings winter woods Wordsworth yarms yellow
Passagens conhecidas
Página 25 - Like a high-born maiden In a palace tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower: Like a glowworm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view...
Página 93 - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Página 93 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue...
Página 26 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain ? What fields, or waves, or mountains ? What shapes of sky or plain ? What love of thine own kind ? what ignorance of pain ? With thy clear, keen joyance Languor cannot be : Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee : Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Página 114 - The melancholy days are come, The saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, And meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, The autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, And to the rabbit's tread. The robin and the wren are flown, And from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow, Through all the gloomy day.
Página 24 - HAIL to thee, blithe spirit ! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire...
Página 37 - Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still The pensive Pleasures sweet, Prepare thy shadowy car. Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene; Or find some ruin midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams.
Página 17 - I gazed— and gazed— but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
Página 30 - Here are sweet peas, on tip-toe for a flight : With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white, And taper fingers catching at all things, To bind them all about with tiny rings.
Página 13 - To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again.