A Poetry-book of Modern PoetsTauchnitz, 1878 - 334 strán (strany) |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 18.
Strana 13
... feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain . " She shall be sportive as the fawn That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs ; And her's shall be the breathing balm , And her's the silence and the calm Of mute ...
... feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain . " She shall be sportive as the fawn That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs ; And her's shall be the breathing balm , And her's the silence and the calm Of mute ...
Strana 30
... feel at least a patriot's shame , Even as I sing , suffuse my face ; For what is left the poet here ? For Greeks a blush - for Greece a tear . Must we but weep o'er days more blest ? Must we but blush ? -Our fathers bled . Earth ...
... feel at least a patriot's shame , Even as I sing , suffuse my face ; For what is left the poet here ? For Greeks a blush - for Greece a tear . Must we but weep o'er days more blest ? Must we but blush ? -Our fathers bled . Earth ...
Strana 44
... feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold , and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony . Some might lament that I were cold , As I when this sweet day is gone , Which my lost heart , too soon grown old , Insults with ...
... feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold , and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony . Some might lament that I were cold , As I when this sweet day is gone , Which my lost heart , too soon grown old , Insults with ...
Strana 82
... feel How much to them I owe , My cheeks have often been bedew'd With tears of thoughtful gratitude . My thoughts are with the Dead : with them I live in long past years , Their virtues love , their faults condemn , Partake their griefs ...
... feel How much to them I owe , My cheeks have often been bedew'd With tears of thoughtful gratitude . My thoughts are with the Dead : with them I live in long past years , Their virtues love , their faults condemn , Partake their griefs ...
Strana 114
... feel I am better at length . And I rest so composedly , Now , in my bed , That any beholder Might fancy me dead— Might start at beholding me , Thinking me dead . The moaning and groaning , The sighing and sobbing , AFTER DEATH . Are ...
... feel I am better at length . And I rest so composedly , Now , in my bed , That any beholder Might fancy me dead— Might start at beholding me , Thinking me dead . The moaning and groaning , The sighing and sobbing , AFTER DEATH . Are ...
Obsah
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Časté výrazy a frázy
A. C. Swinburne Airly Beacon AUTUMN BARBARA FRITCHIE BATTLE OF IVRY BELFRY OF BRUGES bells beneath bird blow boys come home breast breath BRIDGE OF SIGHS bright CLEON clouds cold Cusha D. G. Rossetti daffodil dark dear death deep doth dream earth England's dead eyes fair feet flowers glory golden green hair hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven ITYLUS kisses leaves light LINCOLNSHIRE lips living Lochinvar look Lord loud Minstrels and maids Modern Poets moon morn never night o'er OZYMANDIAS P. B. Shelley Persephone rain river rose round S. T. Coleridge Samian wine shade shadow sigh silent sing sleep slumber snow song sorrow soul sound stars stream summer swallow sweet tears Tennyson thee thine things thou art thought tree uppe voice warm waves weep wild wind wings Wordsworth
Populárne pasáže
Strana 139 - We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Strana 78 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He...
Strana 231 - Hear the sledges with the bells — Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Strana 124 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing ; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence ; truths that wake, To perish never ; Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy...
Strana 145 - TO A WATERFOWL. 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.
Strana 142 - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards : Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms, and winding mossy ways.
Strana 222 - SOLITARY REAPER. BEHOLD her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass ! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass ! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen ! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Strana 142 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
Strana 124 - Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings; Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realized, High instincts before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised...
Strana 64 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.