Poems of Places: England and WalesHenry Wadsworth Longfellow J. R. Osgood, 1876 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 25.
Strana 2
... rest . Ages have fled since then : But deem not my pierced trunk And scanty leafage serves No high behest ; my name Is sounded far and wide ; And in the Providence That guides the steps of men , Hundreds have come to view My grandeur in ...
... rest . Ages have fled since then : But deem not my pierced trunk And scanty leafage serves No high behest ; my name Is sounded far and wide ; And in the Providence That guides the steps of men , Hundreds have come to view My grandeur in ...
Strana 19
... rest's bowers , How oft , amid my busiest toil and care , Retreating fancy brings thee to my sight , As some still vision of the peaceful night ; Magician's wand - waved circle ; halcyon nest , Floating in calm upon the billow's crest ...
... rest's bowers , How oft , amid my busiest toil and care , Retreating fancy brings thee to my sight , As some still vision of the peaceful night ; Magician's wand - waved circle ; halcyon nest , Floating in calm upon the billow's crest ...
Strana 24
... rest ; Sly " Cherub Sims will then purpose " " Billiards , or some sweet ivory sin ; Tom cries , " He played a pretty game , Did honest Smith of Maudlin . " --- The boats are out ! the arrowy rush , The mad bull's jerk , the tiger's ...
... rest ; Sly " Cherub Sims will then purpose " " Billiards , or some sweet ivory sin ; Tom cries , " He played a pretty game , Did honest Smith of Maudlin . " --- The boats are out ! the arrowy rush , The mad bull's jerk , the tiger's ...
Strana 42
... rest ? Then laid asleep beneath the branches sere , Till the Awakener in the east appear , And call the dead to judgment ? Quietness , Methinks the heart - whole rustic loves thee less Than the town's thought - worn smiler . O , most ...
... rest ? Then laid asleep beneath the branches sere , Till the Awakener in the east appear , And call the dead to judgment ? Quietness , Methinks the heart - whole rustic loves thee less Than the town's thought - worn smiler . O , most ...
Strana 63
... rest Lit up as for a royal guest , And crimson banners in the sky Seem from the parapets to fly . Where tapers gleamed at close of day The sunset sheds its transient ray , And carols the belated bird Where once the vesper hymn was heard ...
... rest Lit up as for a royal guest , And crimson banners in the sky Seem from the parapets to fly . Where tapers gleamed at close of day The sunset sheds its transient ray , And carols the belated bird Where once the vesper hymn was heard ...
Obsah
1 | |
8 | |
26 | |
33 | |
36 | |
42 | |
49 | |
55 | |
155 | |
162 | |
168 | |
177 | |
183 | |
188 | |
200 | |
208 | |
62 | |
71 | |
77 | |
83 | |
91 | |
97 | |
109 | |
115 | |
122 | |
129 | |
135 | |
142 | |
149 | |
214 | |
222 | |
226 | |
232 | |
240 | |
247 | |
253 | |
259 | |
266 | |
268 | |
274 | |
Iné vydania - Zobraziť všetky
Časté výrazy a frázy
Alexander Pope Allen-a-Dale ancient Anne hath Anne Hathaway banks bard beauty Bees beneath blue bower breast breath breeze bright clouds crown dark dead dear deep doth dream earth Ebenezer Elliott erth apon erth fair fame flow flowers gaze gleam glide glory grave gray green grove hear heart heaven Henry Alford hills of Surrey hushed king light lone look lord Michael Drayton mighty mountains Muse Nature's night o'er Otterbourne pale pass peace Penshurst praise pride proud Richard Penlake river roaring Robert Southey Robert Stephen Hawker rock round sail shade shore SHURTON sigh silent silver sing Skiddaw sleep smiling solemn song soul sound spire spirit stars stone STRATFORD-UPON-AVON stream Swanage sweet Thames thee thine thought tide tower trees unto vale voice walls wander waters wave wild William Lisle Bowles William Shakespeare William Wordsworth wind woods
Populárne pasáže
Strana 175 - 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.
Strana 251 - One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; Fashioned so slenderly, Young, and so fair ! Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, All that remains of her Now is pure womanly.
Strana 173 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Strana 46 - Night sank upon the dusky beach, and on the purple sea, Such night in England ne'er had been, nor e'er again shall be. From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Milford Bay, That time of slumber was as bright and busy as the day; For swift to east and swift to west the ghastly warflame spread, High on St.
Strana 138 - There is a gentle nymph not far from hence, That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream: Sabrina is her name: a virgin pure; Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine, That had the sceptre from his father Brute. She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit Of her enraged stepdame, Guendolen, 830 Commended her fair innocence to the flood That stayed her flight with his cross-flowing course. The water-nymphs, that in the bottom played, Held up their pearled wrists, and took her in, Bearing her...
Strana 193 - For whilst to th' shame of slow-endeavouring art, Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book Those Delphic lines with deep impression took; Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, Dost make us marble with too much conceiving; And so sepulchered in such pomp dost lie, That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.
Strana 173 - But knowledge to their eyes her ample page Rich with the spoils of time did ne'er unroll; Chill penury repress'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul.
Strana 150 - O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth : I better brook the loss of brittle life Than those proud titles thou hast won of me ; They wound my thoughts worse than thy sword my flesh:— But thought 's the slave of life, and life time's fool ; And time, that takes survey of all the world, Must have a stop.
Strana 174 - Can storied urn, or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can honor's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death * Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire ; Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayed. Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre...
Strana 237 - O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme! Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull, Strong without rage, without o'er-flowing full.