Short readings from English poetry, chosen and arranged with notes by H.A. HertzHelen A Hertz 1879 |
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Стр. 9
... sweet , O sweet content ! Work apace , apace , apace , apace ; Honest labour bears a lovely face ; Then hey nonny nonny , hey nonny nonny ! Canst drink the waters of the crispèd spring ? O Short Readings from English Poetry . 9 J Logan.
... sweet , O sweet content ! Work apace , apace , apace , apace ; Honest labour bears a lovely face ; Then hey nonny nonny , hey nonny nonny ! Canst drink the waters of the crispèd spring ? O Short Readings from English Poetry . 9 J Logan.
Стр. 10
... face ; Then hey nonny nonny , hey nonny nonny ! T. DEKKER . 12 . Elegy written in a Country Church - yard . THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day , The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea , The ploughman homeward plods his weary ...
... face ; Then hey nonny nonny , hey nonny nonny ! T. DEKKER . 12 . Elegy written in a Country Church - yard . THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day , The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea , The ploughman homeward plods his weary ...
Стр. 24
... face . A great retailer of this curious ware , Having unloaded , and made many stare , " Can this be true ? " — an arch observer cries ; " Yes , ( rather moved ) I saw it with these eyes ! " " Sir ! I believe it on that ground alone ; I ...
... face . A great retailer of this curious ware , Having unloaded , and made many stare , " Can this be true ? " — an arch observer cries ; " Yes , ( rather moved ) I saw it with these eyes ! " " Sir ! I believe it on that ground alone ; I ...
Стр. 32
... yours , They therefore needs must fit ! “ But let me scrape the dirt away That hangs upon your face ; And stop and eat , for well you may Be in a hungry case . Said John , " It is my wedding day , 32 Short Readings from English Poetry .
... yours , They therefore needs must fit ! “ But let me scrape the dirt away That hangs upon your face ; And stop and eat , for well you may Be in a hungry case . Said John , " It is my wedding day , 32 Short Readings from English Poetry .
Стр. 41
... face , the snowy beard , The velvet of her paws , Her coat that with the tortoise vies , Her ears of jet , and emerald eyes— She saw , and purred applause . Still had she gazed , but ' midst the tide Two angel forms were seen to glide ...
... face , the snowy beard , The velvet of her paws , Her coat that with the tortoise vies , Her ears of jet , and emerald eyes— She saw , and purred applause . Still had she gazed , but ' midst the tide Two angel forms were seen to glide ...
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Short Readings from English Poetry, Chosen and Arranged with Notes by H.A. Hertz Helen A. Hertz Недоступно для просмотра - 2016 |
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Abbot beauty beneath birds breast breath bright Brutus Cæsar canst clouds cold cried customed hill dance dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth eyes fair fear feel flowers friends galloped gentle GEORGE ELIOT Gilpin give glory grave green guilders hallowed ground happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven honour horse Hubert Islington John Gilpin Julius Cæsar king kiss leaves light live look Lord LORD BYRON moon morning mountains never night o'er P. B. SHELLEY pain path of glory Pibroch pleasure poet praise Proteus rain ringdove river round SHAKESPEARE sigh silent sing Sir John Moore sleep smile soft song soul spirit stars steed stept stood stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thou dost thought trees Twas unto voice weep wild wind wings wonder WORDSWORTH youth
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Стр. 75 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire, That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed, whereon it must expire, Consumed with that...
Стр. 182 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is; What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unawakened earth The...
Стр. 215 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways, Beside the springs of Dove, A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love: A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be: But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
Стр. 155 - And when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say I taught thee Say Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it.
Стр. 174 - O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Стр. 142 - Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under his huge legs and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Стр. 69 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning.
Стр. 144 - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil, that men do, lives after them ; The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Caesar.
Стр. 206 - HAIL to thee, blithe spirit ! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
Стр. 139 - Of hair-breadth scapes i' the imminent deadly breach; Of being taken by the insolent foe, And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, And portance in my travels' history: Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven, It was my hint to speak, — such was the process; And of the Cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders.