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Little Masterpieces of English Poetry: Odes, sonnets, and epigrams
Henry Van Dyke,Hardin Craig
Úplné zobrazenie - 1905
Agnes Barum beauty beneath blue breast breath bride bright brow cloud Cockpen cried cursed Cutty-sark dark dead dear deep door Dora dream earth Edward Rowland Sill Excalibur eyes face fair fear fell flew flowers frae Gilpin Gleam grace gray grew guilders hair hand happy hath heard heart heathen Chinee heaven holy hour Jackdaw James Russell Lowell Kilmeny King King Arthur knee knew lady land light lips lived look look'd Lord Lord Tennyson moon morn never night o'er pipe Porphyro prayer Rhoecus Robert Browning rose round seem'd seemed seen Sensitive Plant sigh sing Sir Bedivere Sir Launfal sleep smile soft song soul sound stars stood stream sure as fate sweet tears thee thine thing thou thought thro voice wind wings wonder word youth
Strana 102 - UNION, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate! We know what Master laid thy keel, What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Strana 45 - Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme: How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed; How He Who bore in Heaven the second name Had not on earth whereon to lay His head; How His first followers and servants sped; The precepts sage they wrote to many a land; How he, who lone in' Patmos banished, Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand, And heard great Bab'lon's doom pronounced by Heaven's command. Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays; Hope 'springs...
Strana 182 - Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, that host with their banners at sunset were seen ; like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, that host on the morrow lay withered and strown. For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, and breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd ; and the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, and their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still...
Strana 77 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint: She seemed a splendid angel, newly drest, Save wings, for heaven: Porphyro grew faint: She knelt, so pure a thing, so free from mortal taint.
Strana 46 - That thus they all shall meet in future days ; There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear ; While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Strana 45 - His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare : .Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And " Let us worship God ! " he says with solemn air. They chant their artless notes in simple guise ; They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim : Perhaps " Dundee's" wild-warbling measures rise, Or plaintive '
Strana 47 - And oh ! may Heaven their simple lives prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vile ! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved Isle. O Thou! who pour'd the patriotic tide That stream'd thro...
Strana 80 - The blisses of her dream so pure and deep At which fair Madeline began to weep, And moan forth witless words with many a sigh; While still her gaze on Porphyro would keep; Who knelt, with joined hands and piteous eye, Fearing to move or speak, she look'd so dreamingly. XXXV 'Ah, Porphyro!
Strana 47 - From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs, That makes her loved at home, revered abroad : Princes and lords are but the breath of kings; " An honest man's the noblest work of God ;" And, certes,* in fair virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind. What is a lordling's pomp ? A cumbrous load, Disguising oft the wretch of human kind! Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refined ! O Scotia, my dear, my native soil!
Strana 45 - The priest-like father reads the sacred page, How Abram was the friend of God on high ; Or, Moses bade eternal warfare wage With Amalek's ungracious progeny ; Or how the royal bard did groaning lie Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire ; Or Job's pathetic plaint and wailing cry ; Or rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire ; Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre. Perhaps...