Poems, Zväzok 1

Predný obal
C.S. Francis, 1859
 

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Populárne pasáže

Strana 163 - The resources created by peace are means of war. In cherishing those resources, we but accumulate those means. Our present repose is no more a proof of inability to act, than the state of inertness and inactivity in which...
Strana 67 - Of my favourite field and the bank where they grew, And now in the grass behold they are laid, And the tree is my seat that once lent me a shade. The blackbird has fled to another retreat Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat, And the scene where his melody charmed me before, Resounds with his sweet-flowing ditty no more.
Strana 65 - But this is that which was spoken by the prophet Joel ; And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh : and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams: And on my servants and on my handmaidens I will pour out in those days of my Spirit; and they shall prophesy...
Strana 176 - And he looked, and behold a well in the field, and, lo, there were three flocks of sheep lying by it ; for out of that well they watered the flocks : and a great stone was upon the well's mouth.
Strana 151 - And pinch'd with cold, and shrinking from the shower, With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour, When idly first, ambitious of the town, She left her wheel and robes of country brown.
Strana 14 - It came from mine own heart, so to my head, And thence into my fingers trickled; Then to my pen, from whence immediately On paper I did dribble it daintily.
Strana 67 - THE POPLAR FIELD The poplars are fell'd, farewell to the shade And the whispering sound of the cool colonnade; The winds play no longer and sing in the leaves. Nor Ouse on his bosom their image receives.
Strana 173 - And thine was many an art to win and bless, The cold and stern to joy and fondness warming; The coaxing smile, the frequent soft caress, The earnest, tearful prayer all wrath disarming! Again my heart a new affection found, But thought that love with thee had reached its bound. At length thou earnest — thou, the last and least, Nicknamed "The Emperor...
Strana 215 - Fainter her slow step falls from day to day, Death's hand is heavy on her darkening brow; Yet doth she fondly cling to earth and say: " I am content to die, but oh! not now! Not while the blossoms of the joyous spring Make the warm air such luxury to breathe; Not while the birds such lays of gladness sing; Not while bright flowers around my footsteps wreathe. Spare me, great God, lift up my drooping brow! I am content to die — but, oh! not now!
Strana 216 - The spring is come again — the joyful spring ! Again the banks with clustering flowers are spread ; The wild bird dips upon its wanton wing : — The child of earth is...

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