The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English LanguageOxford University Press, 1921 - Всего страниц: 496 |
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Стр. 64
... Lord ! Thy slaughter'd saints , whose bones Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold ; Even them who kept Thy truth so pure of old When all our fathers worshipt stocks and stones , Forget not : In Thy book record their groans Who 64 BOOK.
... Lord ! Thy slaughter'd saints , whose bones Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold ; Even them who kept Thy truth so pure of old When all our fathers worshipt stocks and stones , Forget not : In Thy book record their groans Who 64 BOOK.
Стр. 77
... Lord of himself , though not of lands ; And having nothing , yet hath all . Sir H. Wotton XCVI THE NOBLE NATURE It is not growing like a tree In bulk , doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak , three hundred year , To fall a ...
... Lord of himself , though not of lands ; And having nothing , yet hath all . Sir H. Wotton XCVI THE NOBLE NATURE It is not growing like a tree In bulk , doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak , three hundred year , To fall a ...
Стр. 126
... Lord , whose love their motion sway'd In perfect diapason , whilst they stood In first obedience , and their state of good . O may we soon again renew that Song , And keep in tune with Heaven , till God ere long To His celestial consort ...
... Lord , whose love their motion sway'd In perfect diapason , whilst they stood In first obedience , and their state of good . O may we soon again renew that Song , And keep in tune with Heaven , till God ere long To His celestial consort ...
Стр. 142
... lord , Low on his funeral couch he lies ! No pitying heart , no eye , afford A tear to grace his obsequies . Is the sable warrior fled ? Thy son is gone . He rests among the dead . The swarm that in thy noon - tide beam were born ...
... lord , Low on his funeral couch he lies ! No pitying heart , no eye , afford A tear to grace his obsequies . Is the sable warrior fled ? Thy son is gone . He rests among the dead . The swarm that in thy noon - tide beam were born ...
Стр. 145
... lord , A bluidy man I trow thou be ; For mony a heart thou hast made sair That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee . R. Burns CLXII LAMENT FOR FLODDEN I've heard them lilting at our ewe - milking , Lasses a ' lilting before dawn o ' day ...
... lord , A bluidy man I trow thou be ; For mony a heart thou hast made sair That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee . R. Burns CLXII LAMENT FOR FLODDEN I've heard them lilting at our ewe - milking , Lasses a ' lilting before dawn o ' day ...
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The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language Полный просмотр - 1863 |
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A. H. Clough Alfred Noyes beauty beneath birds breast breath bright cheek County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth Elizabeth of Bohemia eyes face fair fear flowers glory golden gone grave gray green grief hand happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven hills hour Itylus John Masefield kiss land leaves light live look look'd Lord Byron Lord Houghton Lord Tennyson love's Lycidas lyre morn mountains ne'er never night numbers o'er once passion poem poet poetry rest Robin Gray rose Rossetti round seem'd shade Shakespeare sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit Spring stars sweet tears tell Theocritus thine things thou art thought thro tree turn'd Twas voice vrom waves weary weep wild wind wings Wordsworth Yarrow youth