A poetry-book of modern poets, selected and arranged by A. B. EdwardsAmelia Ann Blanford Edwards 1879 |
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Página 20
... feet would gladly turn — to some dry nook Scooped out of living rock , and near a brook Hurled down a mountain cove from stage to stage , Yet tempering , for my sight , its bustling rage In the soft heaven of a translucent pool ; Thence ...
... feet would gladly turn — to some dry nook Scooped out of living rock , and near a brook Hurled down a mountain cove from stage to stage , Yet tempering , for my sight , its bustling rage In the soft heaven of a translucent pool ; Thence ...
Página 23
... feet the grass , We will startle from her nest The lively lark with speckled breast , And hear the floating clouds among Her gale - transported matin song ; Or on the upland stile , embowered With fragrant hawthorn snowy - flowered ...
... feet the grass , We will startle from her nest The lively lark with speckled breast , And hear the floating clouds among Her gale - transported matin song ; Or on the upland stile , embowered With fragrant hawthorn snowy - flowered ...
Página 24
... feet through ragged shoes descried . But , oh , when evening's virgin Queen Sits on her fringed throne serene , We will seek the woody lane , By the hamlet on the plain , Where the weary rustic nigh Shall whistle his wild melody , And ...
... feet through ragged shoes descried . But , oh , when evening's virgin Queen Sits on her fringed throne serene , We will seek the woody lane , By the hamlet on the plain , Where the weary rustic nigh Shall whistle his wild melody , And ...
Página 25
... feet To the lone Abbey's still retreat , Embowered in the distant glen , Far from the busy haunts of men , Where , as we sit upon the tomb , The glow - worm's light may gild the gloom , And show to Fancy's saddest eye Where some lost ...
... feet To the lone Abbey's still retreat , Embowered in the distant glen , Far from the busy haunts of men , Where , as we sit upon the tomb , The glow - worm's light may gild the gloom , And show to Fancy's saddest eye Where some lost ...
Página 26
... feet , While from the tombs , with confessed breath , Distinct responds the voice of death . If thou , mild Sage , wilt condescend Thus on my footsteps to attend , To thee my lonely lamp shall burn By fallen Genius ' sainted urn ! As o ...
... feet , While from the tombs , with confessed breath , Distinct responds the voice of death . If thou , mild Sage , wilt condescend Thus on my footsteps to attend , To thee my lonely lamp shall burn By fallen Genius ' sainted urn ! As o ...
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Otras ediciones - Ver todas
A Poetry-Book of Modern Poets, Selected and Arranged by A. B. Edwards Amelia Ann Blanford Edwards Sin vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Términos y frases comunes
A. C. Swinburne Airly Beacon AUTUMN BARBARA FRITCHIE BATTLE OF IVRY BELFRY OF BRUGES bells beneath bird boat boys come home breast breath bright Charlemagne CLEON clouds coronach Cusha D. G. Rossetti dark dear death deep doth dream earth England's dead eyes Faintlier fair flowers foam gleam glory golden green hair hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven ITYLUS kisses leaves light LINCOLNSHIRE Lochinvar look Lord Lord Lytton loud March month Minstrels and maids Modern Poets moon nest never night o'er once OZYMANDIAS P. B. Shelley Persephone poem rain river rose round S. T. Coleridge Samian wine sand shade sigh silent sing sleep slumber snow song sorrow soul sound stars STORM summer sweet tears thee thine thou art thought tree uppe Verse voice waters waves weary weep wild wind wings Wordsworth
Pasajes populares
Página 75 - 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 133 - Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Página 109 - As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief: A timely utterance gave that thought relief, And I again am strong: The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep; No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay...
Página 130 - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards : Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms, and winding mossy ways.
Página 219 - 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 62 - They say it was a shocking sight after the field was won; for many thousand bodies here lay rotting in the sun; but things like that, you know, must be after a famous victory. Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, and our good Prince Eugene. "Why, 'twas a very wicked thing!" said little Wilhelmine. "Nay... nay... my little girl," quoth he, "it was a famous victory. And everybody praised the Duke who this great fight did win." "But what good came of it at last?" quoth little Peterkin. "Why that I...
Página 114 - What was so fugitive! The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction: not indeed For that which is most worthy to be blest Delight and liberty, the simple creed Of childhood, whether busy or at rest, With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast...
Página 130 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Página 36 - The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up, He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,— "Now tread we a measure!
Página 129 - MY HEART aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...