A Poetry-book of Modern PoetsTauchnitz, 1878 - 334 páginas |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 18
Página vi
... lines of association may perhaps convey an added sense of harmony ; while for those who prefer dipping into the book wherever it may chance to open , each poem will have its individual and un- assisted charm . " Here and there , to ...
... lines of association may perhaps convey an added sense of harmony ; while for those who prefer dipping into the book wherever it may chance to open , each poem will have its individual and un- assisted charm . " Here and there , to ...
Página x
... Lines to an Indian Air A Night - song of Love Morning Song to Maud A Farewell The Minstrel - Boy Bannockburn Liberty or Death The Battle of Ivry Hohenlinden Gathering Song of Donald the Black Coronach • The Burial of Sir John Moore ...
... Lines to an Indian Air A Night - song of Love Morning Song to Maud A Farewell The Minstrel - Boy Bannockburn Liberty or Death The Battle of Ivry Hohenlinden Gathering Song of Donald the Black Coronach • The Burial of Sir John Moore ...
Página 31
... line Such as the Doric mothers bore ; And there , perhaps , some seed is sown , The Heracleidan blood might own . Trust not for freedom to the Franks- They have a king who buys and sells : In native swords , and native ranks , The only ...
... line Such as the Doric mothers bore ; And there , perhaps , some seed is sown , The Heracleidan blood might own . Trust not for freedom to the Franks- They have a king who buys and sells : In native swords , and native ranks , The only ...
Página 51
... soul ? Red grows the cheek , and warm the hand , the part is in the whole ! ·· Nor hands nor cheeks keep separate , when soul is joined to soul . E. B. Browning . 52 LINES TO AN INDIAN AIR . LINES TO AN 4 * Inclusions.
... soul ? Red grows the cheek , and warm the hand , the part is in the whole ! ·· Nor hands nor cheeks keep separate , when soul is joined to soul . E. B. Browning . 52 LINES TO AN INDIAN AIR . LINES TO AN 4 * Inclusions.
Página 52
Amelia B. Edwards. 52 LINES TO AN INDIAN AIR . LINES TO AN INDIAN AIR . I ARISE from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night , When the winds are breathing low , And the stars are shining bright . I arise from dreams of thee ...
Amelia B. Edwards. 52 LINES TO AN INDIAN AIR . LINES TO AN INDIAN AIR . I ARISE from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night , When the winds are breathing low , And the stars are shining bright . I arise from dreams of thee ...
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Otras ediciones - Ver todas
A Poetry-Book of Modern Poets: Consisting of Songs and Sonnets, Odes and ... Amelia Blanford Edwards Sin vista previa disponible - 2017 |
A Poetry-Book of Modern Poets: Consisting of Songs and Sonnets, Odes and ... Amelia Blanford Edwards Sin vista previa disponible - 2018 |
Términos y frases comunes
A. C. Swinburne Airly Beacon AUTUMN BARBARA FRITCHIE BATTLE OF IVRY BELFRY OF BRUGES bells beneath bird blow boys come home breast breath BRIDGE OF SIGHS bright CLEON clouds cold Cusha D. G. Rossetti daffodil dark dear death deep doth dream earth England's dead eyes fair feet flowers glory golden green hair hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven ITYLUS kisses leaves light LINCOLNSHIRE lips living Lochinvar look Lord loud Minstrels and maids Modern Poets moon morn never night o'er OZYMANDIAS P. B. Shelley Persephone rain river rose round S. T. Coleridge Samian wine shade shadow sigh silent sing sleep slumber snow song sorrow soul sound stars stream summer swallow sweet tears Tennyson thee thine things thou art thought tree uppe voice warm waves weep wild wind wings Wordsworth
Pasajes populares
Página 139 - We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Página 78 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He...
Página 231 - 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 124 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing ; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence ; truths that wake, To perish never ; Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy...
Página 145 - TO A WATERFOWL. 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 142 - 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 222 - SOLITARY REAPER. BEHOLD her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass ! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass ! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen ! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Página 142 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
Página 124 - Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings; Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realized, High instincts before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised...
Página 64 - 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.