The Garland of Poetry for the Young: A Selection in Four PartsC. Scribner, 1868 |
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Página 81
... blackberries Were all besmeared and dyed , And , when they saw the darksome night , They sat them down and cried . Thus wandered these two pretty babes , Till death did 4 * GARLAND . 81 Yet one of them, more hard of heart, ...
... blackberries Were all besmeared and dyed , And , when they saw the darksome night , They sat them down and cried . Thus wandered these two pretty babes , Till death did 4 * GARLAND . 81 Yet one of them, more hard of heart, ...
Página 82
... death did end their grief ; In one another's arms they died , As babes wanting relief . No burial these pretty babes Of any man receives , Till robin - redbreast , painfully Did cover them with leaves . And now the heavy wrath of God ...
... death did end their grief ; In one another's arms they died , As babes wanting relief . No burial these pretty babes Of any man receives , Till robin - redbreast , painfully Did cover them with leaves . And now the heavy wrath of God ...
Página 98
... death her feeble wings beneath the autumn sun ; Then shall she raise her fainting voice , and lift her drooping lid , And then the child of future years shall hear what Katy did ! G LXVII . THE FORTUNES . FROM HEINE . OOD 98 THE SCHOOL ...
... death her feeble wings beneath the autumn sun ; Then shall she raise her fainting voice , and lift her drooping lid , And then the child of future years shall hear what Katy did ! G LXVII . THE FORTUNES . FROM HEINE . OOD 98 THE SCHOOL ...
Página 159
... death - song of tyrants , and dirge of the slave . Our country lies bleeding - oh ! fly to her aid ; One arm that defends , is worth hosts that invade . From life without freedom , oh ! who would not fly ? For one day of freedom , oh ...
... death - song of tyrants , and dirge of the slave . Our country lies bleeding - oh ! fly to her aid ; One arm that defends , is worth hosts that invade . From life without freedom , oh ! who would not fly ? For one day of freedom , oh ...
Página 160
... death's kindly bosom our last hope remains , The dead fear no tyrants , the grave has no chains . Moore . XIX . SONG OF THE SWALLOW . Sung by the children , passing from door to door , on the return of the swallow . [ Translated from ...
... death's kindly bosom our last hope remains , The dead fear no tyrants , the grave has no chains . Moore . XIX . SONG OF THE SWALLOW . Sung by the children , passing from door to door , on the return of the swallow . [ Translated from ...
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The Garland of Poetry for the Young: A Selection in Four Parts, Volume 1 Caroline Matilda Kirkland Visualização integral - 1868 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
angel beautiful beneath bird blessed blow blue brave breast breath bright brow Caldon Low cheer child clouds cried dark dear death deep door doth earth Eliza Cook eyes face fair father fear flowers Frances Anne Kemble glory glow golden green hand happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven jackdaw John Gilpin Katydid kiss lady land Leigh Hunt light lips LITTLE ROBIN REDBREASTS live look Lord Mary Howitt merry morning mother mountain ne'er Nearer never night o'er ocean Pixies poor pray prayer rest rose round sail Samian wine shine shore sing sleep smile snow soft song soul sound stars stood sweet tears tell tempest thee thine thing Thomas Hood thou thought tree Twas voice waves weary ween weep wild wind wings Winthrop Mackworth Praed word
Passagens conhecidas
Página 103 - To you, in David's town, this day " Is born of David's line " The Saviour, who is Christ the Lord ; " And this shall be the sign. " The heavenly Babe you there shall find " To human view displayed, " All meanly wrapt in swathing bands,
Página 51 - Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts ; — not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play, Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow, Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Página 275 - THE EPITAPH. Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown ; Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth, And Melancholy marked him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, Heaven did a recompense as largely send ; He gave to Misery all he had, a tear, He gained from Heaven ('t was all he wished) a friend.
Página 227 - The isles of Greece ! the isles of Greece ! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Página 54 - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor...
Página 202 - I remember, I remember The fir trees dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky: It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm farther off from- Heaven Than when I was a boy.
Página 331 - Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Página 264 - Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men. Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Página 221 - With priest's and warrior's voice between. No portents now our foes amaze, Forsaken Israel wanders lone ; Our fathers would not know THY ways, And THOU hast left them to their own. But, present still, though now unseen ; When brightly shines the prosperous day, Be thoughts of THEE a cloudy screen To temper the deceitful ray. And...
Página 89 - ... own ladles, split open the kegs of salted sprats, made nests inside men's Sunday hats, and even spoiled the women's chats, by drowning their speaking -with shrieking and squeaking in fifty different sharps and flats. At last the people in a body to the Town Hall came flocking: "'Tis clear...