The Poets of the Nineteenth CenturyRobert Aris Willmott Harper & Brothers, 1881 - Всего страниц: 674 |
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Стр. 2
... voice of mirth and song rebound , Flocks , herds , and waterfalls , along the hoar profound ! In truth , he was a strange and wayward wight , Fond of each gentle and each dreadful scene . In darkness and in storm he found delight ; Nor ...
... voice of mirth and song rebound , Flocks , herds , and waterfalls , along the hoar profound ! In truth , he was a strange and wayward wight , Fond of each gentle and each dreadful scene . In darkness and in storm he found delight ; Nor ...
Стр. 16
... voice May be expected from thee , seated here On thy distorted root , with hearers none , Or prompter , save the scene , I will perform Myself the oracle , and will discourse In my own ear such matter as I may . One man alone , the ...
... voice May be expected from thee , seated here On thy distorted root , with hearers none , Or prompter , save the scene , I will perform Myself the oracle , and will discourse In my own ear such matter as I may . One man alone , the ...
Стр. 17
... Voice only fails , else how distinct they say , " Grieve not , my child , chase all thy fears away ! " The meek intelligence of those dear eyes ( Blest be. LINES TO MY MOTHER'S PICTURE . THE VISION OF SERENA . Save the far - distant. 17.
... Voice only fails , else how distinct they say , " Grieve not , my child , chase all thy fears away ! " The meek intelligence of those dear eyes ( Blest be. LINES TO MY MOTHER'S PICTURE . THE VISION OF SERENA . Save the far - distant. 17.
Стр. 30
... - girls from eyes profane shall hide The gentle bird , who sings of pity best : For still thy voice shall soft affections move , And still be dear to sorrow , and to love ! I ONCE was happy , when , while yet a 30 SONNETS .
... - girls from eyes profane shall hide The gentle bird , who sings of pity best : For still thy voice shall soft affections move , And still be dear to sorrow , and to love ! I ONCE was happy , when , while yet a 30 SONNETS .
Стр. 38
... voice so sweet attunes his cares to rest , So soft no pillow as his mother's breast ! - -Thus charm'd to sweet repose , when twilight hours Shed their soft influence on celestial bowers , The Cherub Innocence , with smile divine , Shuts ...
... voice so sweet attunes his cares to rest , So soft no pillow as his mother's breast ! - -Thus charm'd to sweet repose , when twilight hours Shed their soft influence on celestial bowers , The Cherub Innocence , with smile divine , Shuts ...
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The Poets of the Nineteenth Century Robert Aris Willmott,Evert Augustus Duyckinck Полный просмотр - 1858 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Amelia Opie beam beauty beneath bird blue bosom Bouillabaisse bower breast breath bright brow charms cheek cloud dark dead dear deep delight DEN BOSCH Ditto dread dream earth F. O. C. Darley face fair fear flowers friends gaze gentle gleam glory grave green hand hast hath heard heart heaven hill hour James Godwin Kilmeny LEWESDON HILL light living lonely look lov'd morning mother murmur never night o'er ocean old oaken bucket pride rocks rose round SACK OF BALTIMORE scene seem'd shade shadow shining shore sigh sight silent Sir Bedivere sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream summer sweet tears thee thine thou art thought tree trembling Twas vale VISIT FROM ST voice W. D. Howells wandering wave weep wild wind wings wood youth
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Стр. 138 - Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hillside; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?
Стр. 137 - 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, and the fruit-tree wild...
Стр. 155 - Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse ; and with me The girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain. " She shall be sportive as the fawn, That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs; And hers shall be the breathing balm, And hers the silence and the calm Of mute insensate things.
Стр. 467 - Wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; — Vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — Sorrow for the lost Lenore — For the rare and radiant maiden Whom the angels name Lenore — Nameless here for evermore.
Стр. 368 - 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.
Стр. 137 - Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod.
Стр. 301 - And now when comes the calm, mild day, as still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home, When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still, And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill, The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.
Стр. 139 - All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve! She leant against the armed man.
Стр. 440 - Merlin sware that I should come again To rule once more— but let what will be be, I am so deeply smitten thro' the helm That without help I cannot last till morn. Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur, Which was my pride; for thou rememberest how In those old days, one summer noon, an arm Rose up from out the bosom of the lake, Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful, Holding the sword— and...
Стр. 443 - The great brand Made lightnings in the splendour of the moon, And flashing round and round, and whirl'd in an arch, Shot like a streamer of the northern morn, Seen where the moving isles of winter shock By night, with noises of the northern sea. So...