A Household Book of English Poetry, Выпуск 160Macmillan, 1870 - Всего страниц: 438 |
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G. My Husband then . ? Ch . Ay , with heart as a willing my Hand G. As bondage l'er of freedom : here's And mine , with Heart in it . my Honour , riches , Marriage - blessing Long Continuance and increasing . Hourly joys be still upon ...
G. My Husband then . ? Ch . Ay , with heart as a willing my Hand G. As bondage l'er of freedom : here's And mine , with Heart in it . my Honour , riches , Marriage - blessing Long Continuance and increasing . Hourly joys be still upon ...
Стр. 4
... hearts to have , Meanwhile there reason makes his grave : For many things the eyes approve , Which yet the heart doth seldom love . For as the seeds , in springtime sown , Die in the ground ere they be grown ; Such is conceit , whose ...
... hearts to have , Meanwhile there reason makes his grave : For many things the eyes approve , Which yet the heart doth seldom love . For as the seeds , in springtime sown , Die in the ground ere they be grown ; Such is conceit , whose ...
Стр. 5
... turtles cannot sing , and yet they love . True hearts have eyes , and ears , no tongues to speak ; They hear , and see , and sigh ; and then they break . IO Anon . VI LIFE . The world's a bubble , and the of English Poetry . 5.
... turtles cannot sing , and yet they love . True hearts have eyes , and ears , no tongues to speak ; They hear , and see , and sigh ; and then they break . IO Anon . VI LIFE . The world's a bubble , and the of English Poetry . 5.
Стр. 19
... heart did first relent To taste such bait , myself to spill , I would my heart had been as thine , Or else thy heart as soft as mine . O flatterer false ! thou traitor born , What mischief more might thou devise Than thy dear friend to ...
... heart did first relent To taste such bait , myself to spill , I would my heart had been as thine , Or else thy heart as soft as mine . O flatterer false ! thou traitor born , What mischief more might thou devise Than thy dear friend to ...
Стр. 20
... heart , your soul , and treasure ; And evermore you sobbed and sighed , Burning in flames beyond all measure : Three days endured your love to me , And it was lost in other three ! Adieu Love , adieu Love , untrue Love , Untrue Love ...
... heart , your soul , and treasure ; And evermore you sobbed and sighed , Burning in flames beyond all measure : Three days endured your love to me , And it was lost in other three ! Adieu Love , adieu Love , untrue Love , Untrue Love ...
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Alfred Tennyson Ambrose Philips Anon beauty Ben Jonson beneath bird bonnie breath bright busk canst clouds crown dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dream e'er earth English English Poetry eyes fair fame fancy fear flowers glory golden grace grave gray green grief hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven Henry Vaughan honour hope hour John Milton King light lines live look Lord Lycidas mind morn mourn Muse ne'er never night numbers o'er pale peace Percy Bysshe Shelley poem poet poetry praise pride rose Samuel Taylor Coleridge shade shine sigh sight sing sleep smile song SONNET sorrow soul spirit spring stars sweet tears tell thee thine thou art thought tomb trees verse voice weep wild William Blake William Shakespeare William Wordsworth wind woods Yarrow youth ΙΟ
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Стр. 252 - The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Стр. 288 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Стр. 261 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Стр. 291 - What thou art we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody. Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...
Стр. 347 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Стр. 218 - Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, ' If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Стр. 55 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate; Death lays his icy hand on kings. Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Стр. 382 - And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Стр. 149 - Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams ; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues.
Стр. 288 - O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...