Childhood, a selection from the poets, by H.M.R.1841 - Всего страниц: 80 |
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Стр. 2
... Deep woods , and running brooks , and the rich sights Which thou mayst note above thee At noontide , or on inter - lunar nights , Or when blue Iris , after showers , Bends her cerulean bow , and seems to rest On some distant mountain's ...
... Deep woods , and running brooks , and the rich sights Which thou mayst note above thee At noontide , or on inter - lunar nights , Or when blue Iris , after showers , Bends her cerulean bow , and seems to rest On some distant mountain's ...
Стр. 10
... deep joy I breathe the air That kissed thy cheek and fanned thy hair , And feel though fate our lives must sever , Yet shall thy image live for ever ! CARPE DIEM . BARRY CORNWALL . No care , no 10 TO A SLEEPING CHILD .
... deep joy I breathe the air That kissed thy cheek and fanned thy hair , And feel though fate our lives must sever , Yet shall thy image live for ever ! CARPE DIEM . BARRY CORNWALL . No care , no 10 TO A SLEEPING CHILD .
Стр. 20
... deep spring - tide Of nature then swelled high ; and o'er her child Bending , her soul brake forth , in mingled sounds Of weeping and sad song . " Alas ! " she cried , — " Alas , my boy ! thy gentle grasp is on me , The bright tears ...
... deep spring - tide Of nature then swelled high ; and o'er her child Bending , her soul brake forth , in mingled sounds Of weeping and sad song . " Alas ! " she cried , — " Alas , my boy ! thy gentle grasp is on me , The bright tears ...
Стр. 22
... deep spring - tide Of nature then swelled high ; and o'er her child Bending , her soul brake forth , in mingled sounds Of weeping and sad song . " Alas ! " she cried , - " Alas , my boy ! thy gentle grasp is on me , The bright tears ...
... deep spring - tide Of nature then swelled high ; and o'er her child Bending , her soul brake forth , in mingled sounds Of weeping and sad song . " Alas ! " she cried , - " Alas , my boy ! thy gentle grasp is on me , The bright tears ...
Стр. 25
... deep as mild : Look here ! how sweet a marvel it hath wrought ! The strong right hand of wit and courage taught With Love's own finest touch , to mould the Angel Child ! TO MY FRIEND'S FIRST - BORN . ANONYMOUS . HAD 25 HENRY F CHORLEY ...
... deep as mild : Look here ! how sweet a marvel it hath wrought ! The strong right hand of wit and courage taught With Love's own finest touch , to mould the Angel Child ! TO MY FRIEND'S FIRST - BORN . ANONYMOUS . HAD 25 HENRY F CHORLEY ...
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angel arms art thou babe BARRY CORNWALL beauty BEN JONSON beneath BERNARD BARTON blessed blest bliss bosom breast breath bright brow calm cheek cherub child childhood dark dear death deep delight doth dreams E'en earth eyes face fade fair father fear feel flowers fond forest lea gaze gentle glad grave grief guardian band hand happy HARTLEY COLERIDGE hath head hear heart heaven heavenly HEMANS holy hope hopes and fears hour infant innocence JOANNA BAILLIE kiss knee laughing light lips lisping look MARY HOWITT meek mirth morn mother murmur N. P. WILLIS night o'er thy pain peace pray prayer pure rest rose rosy round sighs silent sleep slumber smile soft song sorrow soul spirit star sunny brow sweet SWEET child tears thee thine things thou art Thou hast thou wert thought thy mother's unto voice watch weep wild wings
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Стр. 357 - Thou whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy soul's immensity; Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind,— Mighty prophet! seer blest! On whom those truths do rest Which we are toiling all our lives to find...
Стр. 356 - Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own ; Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a Mother's mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely Nurse doth all she can To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man, Forget the glories he hath known, And that imperial palace whence he came. Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, A six years...
Стр. 357 - The homely nurse doth all she can To make her foster-child, her inmate Man, Forget the glories he hath known, And that imperial palace whence he came. Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, A six years' darling of a pigmy size ! See, where 'mid work of his own hand he lies.
Стр. 354 - No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep. And all the earth is gay; Land and sea Give themselves up to jollity...
Стр. 355 - Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make ; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee ; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal, The fulness of your bliss, I feel - I feel it all.
Стр. 259 - Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, We love the play-place of our early days. The scene is touching, and the heart is stone That feels not at that sight, and feels at none.
Стр. 339 - BY cool Siloam's shady rill, How sweet the lily grows ! How sweet the breath beneath the hill Of Sharon's dewy rose ! 2 Lo ! such the child whose early feet The paths of peace have trod ; Whose secret heart, with influence sweet, Is upward drawn to God...
Стр. 359 - Silence : truths that wake To perish never ; Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor Man, nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy ! Hence, in a season of calm weather.
Стр. 279 - Say, father, say If yet my task is done!' He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son. 'Speak, father!' once again he cried, 'If I may yet be gone!
Стр. 309 - Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother; And, in the churchyard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother.