Poets of England and America; being selections from the best authors of both countries1860 - 472 páginas |
No interior do livro
Resultados 1-5 de 35
Página 11
... pride ; And so I won my Genevieve , My bright and beauteous bride ! Cupid and Campaspe . CUPID and my Campaspe played At cards for kisses ; Cupid paid : He stakes his quiver , bow and arrows , His mother's doves , and team of sparrows ...
... pride ; And so I won my Genevieve , My bright and beauteous bride ! Cupid and Campaspe . CUPID and my Campaspe played At cards for kisses ; Cupid paid : He stakes his quiver , bow and arrows , His mother's doves , and team of sparrows ...
Página 42
... pride , and fear ; If we were things born Not to shed a tear , I know not how thy joy we ever should come near . Better than all measures Of delightful sound , Better than all treasures That in books are found , Thy skill to poet were ...
... pride , and fear ; If we were things born Not to shed a tear , I know not how thy joy we ever should come near . Better than all measures Of delightful sound , Better than all treasures That in books are found , Thy skill to poet were ...
Página 43
... pride and joy no common rate , That flushed her spirit . I know not by what name beside I shall it call : -if ' t was not pride , It was a joy to that allied , She did inherit . Her parents held the Quaker rule , Which doth the human ...
... pride and joy no common rate , That flushed her spirit . I know not by what name beside I shall it call : -if ' t was not pride , It was a joy to that allied , She did inherit . Her parents held the Quaker rule , Which doth the human ...
Página 67
... pride , and answer- ' Pardon- If he comes to take my love . ' XIII . " Then the young foot - page will run— Then my lover will ride faster , Till he kneeleth at my knee ; ' I am a duke's eldest son ! Thousand serfs do call me master ...
... pride , and answer- ' Pardon- If he comes to take my love . ' XIII . " Then the young foot - page will run— Then my lover will ride faster , Till he kneeleth at my knee ; ' I am a duke's eldest son ! Thousand serfs do call me master ...
Página 88
... pride or cunning driven To misery's brink , Till , wrenched of every stay but Heaven , He , ruined , sink . Even thou who mournst the Daisy's fate , That fate is thine - no distant date : Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives , elate Full on ...
... pride or cunning driven To misery's brink , Till , wrenched of every stay but Heaven , He , ruined , sink . Even thou who mournst the Daisy's fate , That fate is thine - no distant date : Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives , elate Full on ...
Índice
249 | |
256 | |
262 | |
269 | |
275 | |
281 | |
287 | |
293 | |
56 | |
62 | |
82 | |
91 | |
95 | |
100 | |
114 | |
117 | |
120 | |
128 | |
137 | |
149 | |
157 | |
165 | |
171 | |
180 | |
186 | |
190 | |
199 | |
231 | |
242 | |
308 | |
314 | |
319 | |
325 | |
335 | |
355 | |
362 | |
368 | |
376 | |
384 | |
396 | |
403 | |
409 | |
415 | |
426 | |
433 | |
445 | |
451 | |
458 | |
465 | |
Outras edições - Ver tudo
Poets of England and America: Selections from the Best Authors of Both ... England Visualização integral - 1860 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
ALLAN CUNNINGHAM amid Auld Robin Gray BARRY CORNWALL beauty bells BEN JONSON beneath birds bloom blossoms boughs breast breath bright brow CHARLES LAMB charm Cloudland clouds dear deep delight dost doth dream earth ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING eyes face fair fancy flowers gaze gentle golden grace grave green hallowed ground hame hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven hill hour kiss Lady leaves LEIGH HUNT light lips live look lover Lycidas Mary moon morn mountain mournful murmur ne'er never Nevermore night numbers o'er pale pleasure Poems poet poetry praise Preston Mill pride right hand path rose round shade shine sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spring stars stream sweet tears tell tender thee thine THOMAS HOOD thou art thought trees twine unto vale voice weary weep wild wind wings woods Yarrow young youth
Passagens conhecidas
Página 372 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite 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.
Página 62 - MAY MORNING. Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
Página 371 - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn...
Página 458 - HEAR the sledges with the bells— Silver bells ! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night ! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Página 17 - Nay, not so," Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerly still ; and said, " I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow-men." The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night It came again with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had blessed, — And lo ! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest ! LEIGH HUNT.
Página 198 - Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken ! quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door ! " Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er...
Página 197 - This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining, with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch!
Página 146 - As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Página 198 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore ! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Página 241 - And bring all heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.