Lays and Lyrics of the Nineteenth CenturyJ. Charles, 1863 |
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Página 17
... of knife , and thrust of fork , But wher'eer the board was spread , Grace , I ween , was never said ! " A capital stew , " the Fisherman said , With cinamon and sherry " ! And the Abbot turned away his head , For his LAYS AND LYRICS . 17.
... of knife , and thrust of fork , But wher'eer the board was spread , Grace , I ween , was never said ! " A capital stew , " the Fisherman said , With cinamon and sherry " ! And the Abbot turned away his head , For his LAYS AND LYRICS . 17.
Página 70
... ween to see The land assemble all its wealth of grace and chivalry . Grey Montmorency , o'er whose head has pass'd a storm of years , Strong in himself and children stands , the first among the peers . And next the Guises , who so well ...
... ween to see The land assemble all its wealth of grace and chivalry . Grey Montmorency , o'er whose head has pass'd a storm of years , Strong in himself and children stands , the first among the peers . And next the Guises , who so well ...
Página 84
... ween , The marks of that which once hath been . To a Mountain Daisy . On turning one down with the plough in April , 1786 . Wee , modest , crimson - tipped flower , Thou'st met me in an evil hour ; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy ...
... ween , The marks of that which once hath been . To a Mountain Daisy . On turning one down with the plough in April , 1786 . Wee , modest , crimson - tipped flower , Thou'st met me in an evil hour ; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy ...
Términos y frases comunes
Abbot Abou ben Adhem angels Auvergne back my flowers battle beam beauty beloved sleep beneath bird blood Boscastle bosom breast breath breeze bright broadswords brow cheek chime cloud crest cried dark dead death deep doth dream earth fair fearful France friends gaze giveth His beloved gleam glory grave green gusset hand hard to Die HARVARD COLLEGE hath hear heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre hill knew ladies gay land light lips lonely lonely rock looked Mayenne mortal may know never night o'er pale pass'd passing Pibroch prayer pride rest rose round Sensitive Plant shine shore sing skies smile song soul sound spirit stood stream strife sweet sword tears thee Thou art gone thou hast throne tide Tintagel tone tree Twas uncon voice waves ween weep wild wind wing youth
Pasajes populares
Página 88 - O men with Sisters dear ! O men with Mothers and Wives! It is not linen you're wearing out, But human creatures' lives! Stitch - stitch - stitch, In poverty, hunger, and dirt, Sewing at once with a double thread, A Shroud as well as a Shirt.
Página 109 - OF all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this — ' He giveth His beloved sleep ' ? What would we give to our beloved? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows? — He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Página 11 - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind!
Página 32 - And the Naiad-like lily of the vale, Whom youth makes so fair and passion so pale, That the light of its tremulous bells is seen Through their pavilions of tender green...
Página 62 - The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest.
Página 85 - O clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, Thy snawie bosom sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies! Such is the fate of artless maid. Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade! By love's simplicity betray'd. And guileless trust; Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid Low i
Página 91 - There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore; — Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
Página 89 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Página 109 - Sleep soft, beloved !" we sometimes say, But have no tune to charm away Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep. But never doleful dream again. Shall break the happy slumber when He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Página 81 - Hounds are in their couples yelling, Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, Merrily merrily mingle they, 'Waken, lords and ladies gay.' Waken, lords and ladies gay...