Gems of the Modern Poets: With Biographical NoticesCarey and Hart, 1842 - Всего страниц: 408 |
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Стр. 41
... Hope lengthens as she counts the hours Before his wished return . From hard control and tyrant rules , The unfeeling discipline of schools , In thought he loves to roam , And tears will struggle in his eye While he remembers with a sigh ...
... Hope lengthens as she counts the hours Before his wished return . From hard control and tyrant rules , The unfeeling discipline of schools , In thought he loves to roam , And tears will struggle in his eye While he remembers with a sigh ...
Стр. 46
... hope She listened to the names of those who died : Man does not know , -or , knowing , will not heed , — With what an agony of tenderness She gazed upon her children , and beheld His image who was gone . O God ! be Thou , Who art the ...
... hope She listened to the names of those who died : Man does not know , -or , knowing , will not heed , — With what an agony of tenderness She gazed upon her children , and beheld His image who was gone . O God ! be Thou , Who art the ...
Стр. 53
... Hope , how soft , How light the magic pencil ran ! Till Fear would come , alas ! as oft , And trembling close what Hope began . A tear or two had dropp'd from Grief , And Jealousy would , now and then , Ruffle in haste some snowy leaf ...
... Hope , how soft , How light the magic pencil ran ! Till Fear would come , alas ! as oft , And trembling close what Hope began . A tear or two had dropp'd from Grief , And Jealousy would , now and then , Ruffle in haste some snowy leaf ...
Стр. 54
... bud ! And Fancy's emblems lost their glow , And Hope's sweet lines were all defaced , And Love himself could scarcely know What Love himself had lately traced ! At length the urchin Pleasure fled , ( For how 54 MOORE .
... bud ! And Fancy's emblems lost their glow , And Hope's sweet lines were all defaced , And Love himself could scarcely know What Love himself had lately traced ! At length the urchin Pleasure fled , ( For how 54 MOORE .
Стр. 77
... ruined tower . The moonshine stealing o'er the scene Had blended with the lights of eve ; And she was there , my hope , my joy , My own dear Genevieve ! * She lean'd against the armed man , The statue of 7 * COLERIDGE . 77.
... ruined tower . The moonshine stealing o'er the scene Had blended with the lights of eve ; And she was there , my hope , my joy , My own dear Genevieve ! * She lean'd against the armed man , The statue of 7 * COLERIDGE . 77.
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Gems of the Modern Poets: With Biographical Notices Samuel Carter Hall Недоступно для просмотра - 2016 |
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beauty beneath bird born bower breast breath bright brow busy Bee calm Charles Dibdin Charles Lamb child Christ's Hospital cloud cold Dæmon dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth EDWIN HALE ABBOT fair fame fancy Farewell feel flowers friends gaze genius gentle glory gone grace grave green grief happy hath hear heard heart heaven holy orders hope hour human labour Lallah Rookh Leigh Hunt light living Lochinvar lonely look Lord Lord Byron maid Mary merry heart mind mother mountains nature ne'er never night o'er pale poems Poet poetry rose round sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow Sotheby soul sound spirit star sweet tears thee thine things Thomas Hood thou art thought Twas voice wander waves weary weep wild wind wings writings young youth
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Стр. 276 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy tempests blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Стр. 58 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Стр. 176 - O'er moor and mountain green, O'er the red streamer that heralds the day, Over the cloudlet dim, Over the rainbow's rim, Musical cherub, soar, singing, away ! Then, when the gloaming comes, Low in the heather blooms Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be ! Emblem of happiness, Blest is thy dwelling-place — Oh, to abide in the desert with thee ! JAMES HOGG.
Стр. 10 - THERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore ; — Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
Стр. 15 - We in thought will join your throng, Ye that pipe and ye that play, Ye that through your hearts to-day Feel the gladness of the May ! What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower ; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind...
Стр. 63 - Thy brother Death came, and cried, "Would'st thou me?" Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noontide bee, "Shall I nestle near thy side? Would'st thou me?"— And I replied, "No, not thee.
Стр. 164 - Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest...
Стр. 279 - Then shook the hills with thunder riven; Then rush'd the steed, to battle driven; And louder than the bolts of Heaven Far flash'd the red artillery. But redder yet that light shall glow On Linden's hills of stained snow; And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 490 'Tis morn; but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy.
Стр. 41 - And often when I go to plough The ploughshare turns them out. For many thousand men/ said he, 'Were slain in that great victory.' 'Now tell us what 'twas all about...
Стр. 17 - Thus Nature spake — The work was done — How soon my Lucy's race was run! She died, and left to me This heath, this calm, and quiet scene; The memory of what has been, And never more will be.