The illustrated readers, Книги 5

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Стр. 49 - O, to abide in the desert with thee ! Wild is thy lay and loud Far in the downy cloud, Love gives it energy, love gave it birth. Where, on thy dewy wing, Where art thou journeying? Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.
Стр. 212 - THE day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.
Стр. 220 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; In a cowslip's bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly After summer merrily. Merrily, merrily shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Стр. 33 - The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free ; We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea...
Стр. 134 - I had a thing to say, — but let it go : The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, Attended with the pleasures of the world, Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds, To give me audience : — If the midnight bell Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth, Sound on into the drowsy race of night...
Стр. 33 - Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, The glorious Sun uprist: Then all averred I had killed the bird That brought the fog and mist.
Стр. 33 - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.
Стр. 85 - sdained subjection, and thought one step higher Would set me highest, and in a moment quit The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burdensome still paying, still to owe; Forgetful what from him I still received, And understood not that a grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and discharged...
Стр. 85 - O thou that, with surpassing glory crowned, Look'st from thy sole dominion like the god Of this new World — at whose sight all the stars Hide their diminished heads — to thee I call, But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, 0 Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams, That bring to my remembrance from what state 1 fell, how glorious once above thy Sphere, Till pride and worse ambition threw me down, Warring in Heaven against Heaven's matchless King!
Стр. 85 - What could be less than to afford him praise, The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks, How due ! yet all his good prov'd ill in me, And wrought but malice...

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