English Poems from Chaucer to KiplingThomas Marc Parrott, Augustus White Long Ginn, 1902 - 401 páginas |
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Página vii
... from Abbotsford The Solitary Reaper I wandered lonely as a Cloud . She was a Phantom of Delight COLERIDGE . The Ancient Mariner • 145 . 147 149 150 150 151 · 151 152 153 155 • 156 PAGE SCOTT . 178 From The Lay of the Last CONTENTS vii.
... from Abbotsford The Solitary Reaper I wandered lonely as a Cloud . She was a Phantom of Delight COLERIDGE . The Ancient Mariner • 145 . 147 149 150 150 151 · 151 152 153 155 • 156 PAGE SCOTT . 178 From The Lay of the Last CONTENTS vii.
Página 52
... ; But thou thereon didst only breathe , And sent'st it back to me : Since when it grows , and smells , I swear , Not of itself , but thee . 10 15 BEN JONSON . GOOD MORROW PACK , clouds , away , and welcome 52 ENGLISH POEMS ✓ To Celia.
... ; But thou thereon didst only breathe , And sent'st it back to me : Since when it grows , and smells , I swear , Not of itself , but thee . 10 15 BEN JONSON . GOOD MORROW PACK , clouds , away , and welcome 52 ENGLISH POEMS ✓ To Celia.
Página 53
Thomas Marc Parrott, Augustus White Long. GOOD MORROW PACK , clouds , away , and welcome , day ! With night we banish sorrow . Sweet air , blow soft ; mount , lark , aloft To give my love good morrow ! Wings from the wind to please her ...
Thomas Marc Parrott, Augustus White Long. GOOD MORROW PACK , clouds , away , and welcome , day ! With night we banish sorrow . Sweet air , blow soft ; mount , lark , aloft To give my love good morrow ! Wings from the wind to please her ...
Página 64
... clouds in thousand liveries dight ; While the ploughman , near at hand , Whistles o'er the furrowed land , And the milkmaid singeth blithe , And the mower whets his scythe , And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the ...
... clouds in thousand liveries dight ; While the ploughman , near at hand , Whistles o'er the furrowed land , And the milkmaid singeth blithe , And the mower whets his scythe , And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the ...
Página 69
... cloud . Oft , on a plat of rising ground , I hear the far - off curfew sound , Over some wide - watered shore , Swinging slow with sullen roar ; Or , if the air will not permit , Some still removéd place will fit , L 70 75 Where glowing ...
... cloud . Oft , on a plat of rising ground , I hear the far - off curfew sound , Over some wide - watered shore , Swinging slow with sullen roar ; Or , if the air will not permit , Some still removéd place will fit , L 70 75 Where glowing ...
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Términos y frases comunes
auld lang syne ballads battle beauty bird blow brave breath bright Buccleuch Byron called castle Cavalier poets charm Chaucer dead dear death doth earth England English English poetry eyes Faerie Queene fair fame famous father fear fight flowers grace green hand hath hear heart heaven Il Penseroso king King Arthur Kinmont Kinmont Willie L'Allegro lady land light LINE live London looked lord Scroope loud lover lyric Melancholy Milton moon morning never night numbers o'er Otterbourne play pleasure poem poet poetry Pope Puritan Queen ROBERT HERRICK Robin rose round sails Scotch Shakespeare ship sigh sing Sir Bedivere sir Patrick Spens sleep smile song sonnet soul Spanish Spenser spirit stars sweet sword thee thine Thomas thou thought town verse WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR wild wind word wrote youth ΙΟ
Pasajes populares
Página 111 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Página 245 - Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho...
Página 151 - Reaper. Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Página 44 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Página 112 - customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he : The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Página 233 - We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven ; that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Página 233 - Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho...
Página 152 - I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Página 219 - Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath...
Página 41 - FEAR no more the heat o' the sun Nor the furious winter's rages ; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...