The poetical reader, with notes and questions by A.W. BuchanAlexander Winton Buchan 1859 |
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Стр. 8
... Beneath the old oak tree . The dew - drops on the summer morn , Sparkle upon the grass ; The village children brush them off , That through the meadows pass . There are no gems in monarch's crowns , More beautiful than they ; And yet we ...
... Beneath the old oak tree . The dew - drops on the summer morn , Sparkle upon the grass ; The village children brush them off , That through the meadows pass . There are no gems in monarch's crowns , More beautiful than they ; And yet we ...
Стр. 11
... Beneath a rose - tree sleeping lay ; That spirit to whose charge ' tis given To bathe young buds in dews of heaven ; - Awaking from his light repose , The angel whispered to the rose : " O fondest object of my care , Still fairest found ...
... Beneath a rose - tree sleeping lay ; That spirit to whose charge ' tis given To bathe young buds in dews of heaven ; - Awaking from his light repose , The angel whispered to the rose : " O fondest object of my care , Still fairest found ...
Стр. 18
... Beneath the covert of your cloak , Protected from this cold damp air ? " She answered , soon as she the question heard , " A simple burthen , Sir , a little singing - bird . " And , thus continuing , she said , " I had a son , who many ...
... Beneath the covert of your cloak , Protected from this cold damp air ? " She answered , soon as she the question heard , " A simple burthen , Sir , a little singing - bird . " And , thus continuing , she said , " I had a son , who many ...
Стр. 23
... beneath the touch of thy light dipping wing ; The thunder - cloud above us bow'd in deeper gloom is seen , When quick relieved it glances to thy bosom's silvery sheen . The silent power that brought thee back , with leading strings of ...
... beneath the touch of thy light dipping wing ; The thunder - cloud above us bow'd in deeper gloom is seen , When quick relieved it glances to thy bosom's silvery sheen . The silent power that brought thee back , with leading strings of ...
Стр. 33
... beneath their burden . There was one- Only one mourner . Close behind the bier , Crumpling the pall up in her withered hands , Follow'd an aged woman . Her short steps Faltered with weakness , and a broken moan Fell from her lips ...
... beneath their burden . There was one- Only one mourner . Close behind the bier , Crumpling the pall up in her withered hands , Follow'd an aged woman . Her short steps Faltered with weakness , and a broken moan Fell from her lips ...
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The poetical reader, with notes and questions by A.W. Buchan Alexander Winton Buchan Полный просмотр - 1861 |
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angel arms beauty beneath bird blessed breast breath bright brothers CANUTE child clouds cold comes cottage dark dead dear death deep early earth eternal face fair father fear fire flowers friends give gone grave green grief hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hill hope hour Italy king knew LADY leave light live look Lord meet mind morning mother nature nest never night o'er once pass play poor praise pride Queen rest rise rock rose round seen side silent sing sleep smile song soon soul sound speak spirit stand stood streams summer sweet tears tell thee things thou thought tree Twas village voice waters weary wild wind wing young
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Стр. 23 - Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Стр. 23 - 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. 98 - They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms...
Стр. 70 - Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew. Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view: Like a rose embowered In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflowered, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves. Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain-awakened flowers, All that ever was Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.
Стр. 60 - Thou first and chief, sole sovereign of the Vale ! O struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky or when they sink : Companion of the morning-star at dawn, Thyself Earth's rosy star, and of the dawn Co-herald : wake, O wake, and utter praise ! Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in Earth ? Who filled thy countenance with rosy light ? Who made thee parent of perpetual streams...
Стр. 69 - 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. 87 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time ; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
Стр. 54 - Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
Стр. 64 - The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot Sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead. That is the grasshopper's : he takes the lead In summer luxury — he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
Стр. 91 - So went to bed : where eagerly his sickness Pursued him still ; and, three nights after this, About the hour of eight, (which he himself Foretold should be his last, ) full of repentance, Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.