Poetical works, with a life of the author (abridged from W. Howitt).Routledge, Warne and Routledge, 1859 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 100.
Strana 11
... turns may hope and fear ! Now from the sunny apple seek The velvet down that spreads his cheek ; And there let Beauty's rosy ray In flying blushes richly play ; Blushes , of that celestial flame Which lights the cheek of virgin shame ...
... turns may hope and fear ! Now from the sunny apple seek The velvet down that spreads his cheek ; And there let Beauty's rosy ray In flying blushes richly play ; Blushes , of that celestial flame Which lights the cheek of virgin shame ...
Strana 38
... Turn , to Lethe's river turn , There thy vanquish'd people mourn ! Come to Lethe's wavy shore , There thy people's peace restore . Thine their hearts , their altars thine ; Dian ! must they must they pine ? ODE LXV . LIKE Some wanton ...
... Turn , to Lethe's river turn , There thy vanquish'd people mourn ! Come to Lethe's wavy shore , There thy people's peace restore . Thine their hearts , their altars thine ; Dian ! must they must they pine ? ODE LXV . LIKE Some wanton ...
Strana 39
... turn and wind thee in the course . Though wasting now thy careless hours , Thou sport amid the herbs and flowers ... Turn to Myrilla , turn thine eye , Breathe to Myrilla , breathe thy sigh ! To those bewitching beauties turn ; For thee ...
... turn and wind thee in the course . Though wasting now thy careless hours , Thou sport amid the herbs and flowers ... Turn to Myrilla , turn thine eye , Breathe to Myrilla , breathe thy sigh ! To those bewitching beauties turn ; For thee ...
Strana 46
... turn , as wandering nigh , And drop thy goblet's richest tear In exquisite libation here ! So shall my sleeping ashes thrill With visions of enjoyment still . I cannot even in death resign The festal joys that once were mine , When ...
... turn , as wandering nigh , And drop thy goblet's richest tear In exquisite libation here ! So shall my sleeping ashes thrill With visions of enjoyment still . I cannot even in death resign The festal joys that once were mine , When ...
Strana 78
... turn'd and sung my vespers there . This , from a youthful pilgrim's fire , Is what your pretty saints require : To pass , nor tell a single bead , With them would be profane indeed ! But trust me , all this young devotion Was but to ...
... turn'd and sung my vespers there . This , from a youthful pilgrim's fire , Is what your pretty saints require : To pass , nor tell a single bead , With them would be profane indeed ! But trust me , all this young devotion Was but to ...
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Časté výrazy a frázy
Anacreon Bacchus beam beauty beneath Bermuda blest bliss bloom blushing bosom bowers bowl breast breath breeze bright Bromham brow burning Catullus charm cheek dark dear death Devizes divine Donnington Park dream e'en e'er earth eyes fair fancy feel fire flame flowers friends glance gloom glory glow grace harp hath heart heaven heavenly hour hung kiss Lalla Rookh light live look look'd Lord Lord Byron Lord John Russell Lord Lansdowne Lord Moira lover lyre maid mingle Moore morning ne'er never night nymph o'er poet rapture rose rosy round rove seem'd shade shed shine sigh sleep slumber smile soft song soul sparkling spirit steal sweet sweetly tear tears of wine tell thee thine thou thought trembling Twas twine vermil wander wanton warm wave weep wild wind wine wing young youth
Populárne pasáže
Strana 238 - Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care, And bring back the features that joy used to wear. Long, long be my heart with such memories...
Strana 264 - When youthful spring around us breathes, Thy spirit warms her fragrant sigh ; And every flower the summer wreathes Is born beneath that kindling eye. Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are thine.
Strana 206 - THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet ; Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.
Strana 190 - FAINTLY as tolls the evening chime Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time. Soon as the woods on shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn. "Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, 'The rapids are near and the daylight's past.
Strana 271 - Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord ! His word was our arrow, his breath was our sword. Who shall return to tell Egypt the story Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride ? For the Lord hath looked out from his pillar of glory, And all her brave thousands are dashed in the tide. Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea ! Jehovah hath triumphed, — his people are free ! FIFE AND DRUM.
Strana 346 - twas a sight, — that heaven, that child, A scene, which might have well beguiled Even haughty Eblis of a sigh For glories lost and peace gone by! And how felt he, the wretched man Reclining there, while memory ran O'er many a year of guilt and strife, — Flew o'er the dark flood of his life, Nor found one sunny resting-place, Nor brought him back one branch of grace. "There was a time," he said, in mild, Heart-humbled tones, "thou blessed child!
Strana 267 - THE BIRD, LET LOOSE. (AIR. — BEETHOVEN. ) THE bird, let loose in eastern skies,* When hastening fondly home, Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam. But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way.
Strana 271 - And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand ; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances. And Miriam answered them, Sing ye to the LORD, for he hath triumphed gloriously ; the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.
Strana 241 - Then come o'er the sea, Maiden, with me, Come wherever the wild wind blows ; Seasons may roll, But the true soul Burns the same, where'er it goes. Was not the sea Made for the Free, Land for courts and chains alone ? Here we are slaves, But, on the waves, Love and liberty 's all our own.
Strana 360 - Oh ! ever thus, from childhood's hour, I've seen my fondest hopes decay ; I never loved a tree or flower, But 'twas the first to fade away. I never nursed a dear gazelle. To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well, And love me, it was sure to die ! Now too — the joy most like divine Of all I ever dreamt or knew.