The Lyre: Fugitive Poetry of the Nineteenth CenturyTilt and Bogue, 1841 - Всего страниц: 344 |
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Стр. xi
... Death of Ismael Fitzadam . By Miss Landon 38 I think of thee . By T. K. Hervey 41 Excuse for not fulfilling an Engagement . By Mrs. Sigourney 43 Forget thee ? By the Rev. J. Moultrie 44 Address to a Wild Deer . By Professor Wilson 45 ...
... Death of Ismael Fitzadam . By Miss Landon 38 I think of thee . By T. K. Hervey 41 Excuse for not fulfilling an Engagement . By Mrs. Sigourney 43 Forget thee ? By the Rev. J. Moultrie 44 Address to a Wild Deer . By Professor Wilson 45 ...
Стр. 5
... death ; Those features to the grave be sent In sleep thus mutely eloquent ; Or , art thou , what thy form would seem , The phantom of a blessed dream ? A human shape I feel thou art , I feel it at my beating heart , Those tremors both ...
... death ; Those features to the grave be sent In sleep thus mutely eloquent ; Or , art thou , what thy form would seem , The phantom of a blessed dream ? A human shape I feel thou art , I feel it at my beating heart , Those tremors both ...
Стр. 8
... death ; When all around is peace , Calmly to yield the weary breath , From sin and suffering cease ; Think of Heaven's bliss , and give the sign To parting friends : -such death be mine ! THE VOICE OF MIDNIGHT . WHEN night sits on the.
... death ; When all around is peace , Calmly to yield the weary breath , From sin and suffering cease ; Think of Heaven's bliss , and give the sign To parting friends : -such death be mine ! THE VOICE OF MIDNIGHT . WHEN night sits on the.
Стр. 13
... , And treads the sapphire floors of Paradise , All darkness wiped from her refulgent brow , Sin , sorrow , suffering , banished from her eyes , LYRE . C 14 WEEP NOT FOR HER . Victorious over death to 13 Weep not for her By D M Moir.
... , And treads the sapphire floors of Paradise , All darkness wiped from her refulgent brow , Sin , sorrow , suffering , banished from her eyes , LYRE . C 14 WEEP NOT FOR HER . Victorious over death to 13 Weep not for her By D M Moir.
Стр. 14
... death to her appears , The vista'd joys of heaven's eternal years : Weep not for her ! Weep not for her ! Her memory is the shrine Of pleasant thoughts , soft as the scent of flowers , Calm as on windless eve the sun's decline , Sweet ...
... death to her appears , The vista'd joys of heaven's eternal years : Weep not for her ! Weep not for her ! Her memory is the shrine Of pleasant thoughts , soft as the scent of flowers , Calm as on windless eve the sun's decline , Sweet ...
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
ALARIC beam beauty Behave yoursel beneath billow bird blessed bloom blue bosom bower breast breath bright bright eyes brow calm cheek cloud cold dark dead dear death deep dream e'en earth EAST INDIAMAN faded fair fame feel fled flowers gaze gentle gleam glory glow gone grave green grief hath hear heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre hope hour land lassie leaves life's light lips lonely look LORD BYRON lute LYRE moon morning mountain N. P. WILLIS ne'er NELL GWYN never night o'er pale rest Rhine rose round Sappho shade shine shore SICILIAN VESPERS sigh silent skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream summer sweet tears tempest thee thine thou art thou hast thou wert thought Twas Valentine's day voice wave weep wild wind wings young youth
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Стр. 214 - And the angel which I saw stand upon the sea and upon the earth lifted up his hand to heaven. And sware by him that liveth for ever and ever, who created heaven, and the things that therein are, and the earth, and the things that therein are, and the sea, and the things which are therein, that there should be time no longer...
Стр. 164 - The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle.
Стр. 58 - And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he may, For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray, Press where ye see my white plume shine, amidst the ranks of war, And be your oriflamme to-day the helmet of Navarre.
Стр. 193 - 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. 257 - Guard it ! — God will prosper thee ! In the dark and trying hour, In the breaking forth of power, In the rush of steeds and men, His right hand will shield thee then. " Take thy banner ! But, when night Closes round the ghastly fight, If the vanquished warrior bow, Spare him ! — By our holy vow, By our prayers and many tears, By the mercy that endears, Spare him ! — he our love hath shared ! Spare him ! — as thou wouldst be spared...
Стр. 84 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Стр. 59 - was passed from man to man. But out spake gentle Henry, " No Frenchman is my foe: Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go.
Стр. 276 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear...
Стр. 158 - Thy sunken eye's unearthly light To him is welcome as the sight Of sky and stars to prisoned men; Thy grasp is welcome as the hand Of brother in a foreign land; Thy summons welcome as the cry That told the Indian isles were nigh To the world-seeking Genoese, When the land-wind, from woods of palm, And orange-groves, and fields of balm, Blew o'er the Haytian seas.
Стр. 103 - midst Italian flowers — The last of that bright band. And parted thus they rest who played Beneath the same green tree ; Whose voices mingled as they prayed Around one parent knee...