First (Second) poetry book, selected and arranged by C. Geikie, Том 2John Cunningham Geikie 1878 |
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Стр. 21
... delight each May morning : If these delights thy mind may move , Come live with me and be my love . 10 - SIMON WASTELL . - Born , 1562 ; date of death , and incidents of life , unknown . HUMAN LIFE . LIKE as the damask rose you see , Or ...
... delight each May morning : If these delights thy mind may move , Come live with me and be my love . 10 - SIMON WASTELL . - Born , 1562 ; date of death , and incidents of life , unknown . HUMAN LIFE . LIKE as the damask rose you see , Or ...
Стр. 53
John Cunningham Geikie. What , were ye born to be An hour or half's delight , And so to bid good - night ? ' Twas pity Nature brought ye forth Merely to show your worth , " And lose you quite . But you are lovely leaves , where we May ...
John Cunningham Geikie. What , were ye born to be An hour or half's delight , And so to bid good - night ? ' Twas pity Nature brought ye forth Merely to show your worth , " And lose you quite . But you are lovely leaves , where we May ...
Стр. 71
... Delight Thee more , and Siloa's brooks that flow'd Fast by the oracle of God , I thence Invoke Thy aid to my adventurous song , " 10 1 Milton invokes God Himself to in- spire him to sing of the loss of Eden and its results . 2 Oreb , or ...
... Delight Thee more , and Siloa's brooks that flow'd Fast by the oracle of God , I thence Invoke Thy aid to my adventurous song , " 10 1 Milton invokes God Himself to in- spire him to sing of the loss of Eden and its results . 2 Oreb , or ...
Стр. 82
... delight was still On roses thus itself to fill , And its pure virgin limbs to fold In whitest sheets of lilies cold : - Had it lived long , it would have been Lilies without , -roses within . We would now say lay . 42 HENRY VAUGHAN ...
... delight was still On roses thus itself to fill , And its pure virgin limbs to fold In whitest sheets of lilies cold : - Had it lived long , it would have been Lilies without , -roses within . We would now say lay . 42 HENRY VAUGHAN ...
Стр. 100
... delightful poets of Nature . He is , now , best known by his poems " The Seasons , " but " The Castle of Indolence " is a charming composition . Several Tra- gedies were written by him , and also a poem called " Liberty . " He was ...
... delightful poets of Nature . He is , now , best known by his poems " The Seasons , " but " The Castle of Indolence " is a charming composition . Several Tra- gedies were written by him , and also a poem called " Liberty . " He was ...
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arms battle bear beneath blood BOOK born brave breast breath bright Cæsar called close clouds dark dead death deep delight Died earth England English eyes fair fall father fire flowers follow fought gaze give glory grace green hand hast hath head hear heart Heaven Henry hill honour hope hour Italy keep King land light living London look Lord lost mind morning nature never night o'er once pass Persian play poems poet poor praise pride raise READING rest rich rise rose round sail shine Ship sing sleep smile song soul sound spirit star sweet tear thee things thou thought town turn Twas Verse voice wave wind wings
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Стр. 111 - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate ; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, " Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn, Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
Стр. 182 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Стр. 91 - Hark! they whisper; angels say, Sister spirit, come away. What is this absorbs me quite ? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath ? Tell me, my soul, can this be death ? The world recedes; it disappears!
Стр. 181 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage-bell; But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!
Стр. 198 - Work - work work Till the brain begins to swim! Work - work - work Till the eyes are heavy and dim! Seam , and gusset , and band , Band , and gusset , and seam , Till over the buttons I fall asleep, And sew them on in a dream! "O men with sisters dear! O men with mothers and wives! It is not linen you're wearing out , But human creatures
Стр. 36 - tis his will ; Let but the commons hear this testament (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read), And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue.
Стр. 34 - 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. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious. If it were so, it was a grievous fault; And grievously hath Caesar answered it.
Стр. 122 - Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss — Ah, that maternal smile ! — it answers — Yes. I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu I But was it such ? — It was.— Where thou art gone Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.
Стр. 80 - Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform ; and mix And nourish all things ; let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise. Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise From hill or steaming lake, dusky, or gray, Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, In honour to the world's great Author rise...
Стр. 156 - Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently! Around thee and above Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity! 0 dread and silent Mount! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought : entranced in prayer 1 worshipped the Invisible alone.