The Ancient Mariner: And Other PoemsCharles Tilt, Fleet Street ; J. Menzies, Edinburgh ; W. F. Wakeman, Dublin., 1836 - Всего страниц: 142 |
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Стр. 66
... Weeps o'er the sorrows of her fav'rite flower ! Weeps the soft dew , the balmy gale she sighs , And darts a trembling lustre from her eyes . New life and joy th ' expanding flow'ret feels : His pitying mistress mourns , and mourning ...
... Weeps o'er the sorrows of her fav'rite flower ! Weeps the soft dew , the balmy gale she sighs , And darts a trembling lustre from her eyes . New life and joy th ' expanding flow'ret feels : His pitying mistress mourns , and mourning ...
Стр. 67
... weep ; Where cypress and the darker yew start wild ; And , ' mid the summer torrent's gentle dash , Dance brighten'd the red clusters of the ash ; Beneath whose boughs , by stillest sounds be- guil'd , Calm Pensiveness might muse ...
... weep ; Where cypress and the darker yew start wild ; And , ' mid the summer torrent's gentle dash , Dance brighten'd the red clusters of the ash ; Beneath whose boughs , by stillest sounds be- guil'd , Calm Pensiveness might muse ...
Стр. 74
... Weep and rejoice ! Still echoes the dread * name , that o'er the earth Let slip the storm and woke the brood of hell ! And now advance , in saintly jubilee , Justice and Truth : they too have heard the spell , They too obey thy name ...
... Weep and rejoice ! Still echoes the dread * name , that o'er the earth Let slip the storm and woke the brood of hell ! And now advance , in saintly jubilee , Justice and Truth : they too have heard the spell , They too obey thy name ...
Стр. 85
... weep , yet stoop not ! the faint anguish flows , A dreamy pang in morning's feverish doze . Is this pil'd earth our being's passless mound ? Tell me , cold grave ! is Death with poppies crown'd ? Tir'd sentinel ! ' mid fitful starts I ...
... weep , yet stoop not ! the faint anguish flows , A dreamy pang in morning's feverish doze . Is this pil'd earth our being's passless mound ? Tell me , cold grave ! is Death with poppies crown'd ? Tir'd sentinel ! ' mid fitful starts I ...
Стр. 91
... weeping good man pours Into the lone , despoiled trav'ller's wounds ! Thus from th ' elect , regenerate thro ' faith , Pass the dark passions * and what thirsty cares Drink up the spirit and the dim regards Self - centre . Lo , they ...
... weeping good man pours Into the lone , despoiled trav'ller's wounds ! Thus from th ' elect , regenerate thro ' faith , Pass the dark passions * and what thirsty cares Drink up the spirit and the dim regards Self - centre . Lo , they ...
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
albatross Ancient Mariner anguish ANTISTROPHE bard beneath bird black lips blast blest bosom breast breath breeze bright Chatterton cheek clouds dance dark Darts dead dear dread dream earth EPODE faery fair fancy fancy's fear feelings fix'd flower French Revolution gale gaze gleam glitter groan haply hath hear heard heart heaven Hermit holy hour hues Lamb of God land of mist Lee Boo light lonely loud maid meek mild mind mist Monody moon muse night noon nurs'd o'er thy ocean Peace pensive pity Pixies Poems poison'd rise RIVER OTTER rose round sails shadow ship shrieks sigh sleep smile soft song SONNET soothes sorrows soul spirit star strange stream sublime sweet swell tear thee thine thou thro throne toil trembling Twas vale voice wave wedding-guest ween weep wild wind wing
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Стр. 27 - I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach.
Стр. 5 - With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled.
Стр. 18 - twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song, That makes the heavens be mute. It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Стр. 19 - Is this the man? By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low The harmless Albatross. The Spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow.
Стр. 24 - The pilot and the pilot's boy, I heard them coming fast : Dear Lord in heaven ! it was a joy The dead men could not blast. I saw a third — I heard his voice : It is the hermit good ! He singeth loud his godly hymns That he makes in the wood. * He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away The Albatross's blood.
Стр. 10 - Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud) How fast she nears and nears! Are those her sails that glance in the Sun, Like restless gossameres!
Стр. 16 - The upper air burst into life! And a hundred fire-flags sheen, To and fro they were hurried about ! And to and fro, and in and out, The wan stars danced between.
Стр. 11 - The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice; "The game is done! I've won! I've won!
Стр. 4 - The Sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he ! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon — The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon.
Стр. 4 - Eftsoons his hand dropt he. He holds him with his glittering eye The Wedding-Guest stood still, And listens like a three years' child: The Mariner hath his will. The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone: He cannot choose but hear; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner.