The Golden Treasury: Of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language"The Golden Treasury" by Various. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format. |
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... before, And emperor-like decore With diadem of pearl thy temples fair: Chase
hence the ugly night Which serves but to make dear thy glorious light. —This is
that happy morn, That day, long wishéd day Of all my life so.
... before, And emperor-like decore With diadem of pearl thy temples fair: Chase
hence the ugly night Which serves but to make dear thy glorious light. —This is
that happy morn, That day, long wishéd day Of all my life so.
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... sour When you have bid your servant once adieu: Nor dare I question with my
jealous thought Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, But like a sad slave,
stay and think of nought Save where you are, how happy you make those;— So.
... sour When you have bid your servant once adieu: Nor dare I question with my
jealous thought Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, But like a sad slave,
stay and think of nought Save where you are, how happy you make those;— So.
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Save where you are, how happy you make those;— So true a fool is love, that in
your will, Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill. W. SHAKESPEARE. 11. How
like a winter hath my absence been From Thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
Save where you are, how happy you make those;— So true a fool is love, that in
your will, Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill. W. SHAKESPEARE. 11. How
like a winter hath my absence been From Thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
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... And if that aught mischanced thou should'st not moan Nor bear the burthen of
thy griefs alone; No, I would have my share in what were thine: And whilst we
thus should make our sorrows one, This happy harmony would make them none.
... And if that aught mischanced thou should'st not moan Nor bear the burthen of
thy griefs alone; No, I would have my share in what were thine: And whilst we
thus should make our sorrows one, This happy harmony would make them none.
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The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language Полный просмотр - 1863 |
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beauty beneath birds born breast breath bright bring close clouds comes dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth eyes face fair fear feel fire flowers gentle give glory gone green hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour ladies land leaves less light live look Lord meet mind morn Nature never night notes o'er once pain pale passion pleasure Poem rest rose round seen shade SHAKESPEARE shore sight sing sleep smile soft song soon sorrow soul sound spirit spring star stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought tree true voice waves wild winds wings wish woods WORDSWORTH Yarrow youth