The Poets and Poetry of England, in the Nineteenth CenturyCarey & Hart, 1845 - 504 páginas |
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Página 57
... gloom , He deems their colours shall endure Till peace go with him to the tomb . And let him nurse his fond deceit , And what if he must die in sorrow ! Who would not cherish dreams so sweet , Though grief and pain may come to - morrow ...
... gloom , He deems their colours shall endure Till peace go with him to the tomb . And let him nurse his fond deceit , And what if he must die in sorrow ! Who would not cherish dreams so sweet , Though grief and pain may come to - morrow ...
Página 79
... gloom , On I move , nor will I slacken Sail , though verging towards the tomb : Bright beyond , -on heaven's high strand , Lo , the lighthouse ! —land , land , land ! Cloud and sunshine , wind and weather , Sense and sight are fleeing ...
... gloom , On I move , nor will I slacken Sail , though verging towards the tomb : Bright beyond , -on heaven's high strand , Lo , the lighthouse ! —land , land , land ! Cloud and sunshine , wind and weather , Sense and sight are fleeing ...
Página 103
... gloom ; While indistinct lie rude and cultured lands , The ripening harvest and the hoary sands : Alone , and destitute of every page That fires the poet , or informs the sage , Where shall my wishes , where my fancy rove , Rest upon ...
... gloom ; While indistinct lie rude and cultured lands , The ripening harvest and the hoary sands : Alone , and destitute of every page That fires the poet , or informs the sage , Where shall my wishes , where my fancy rove , Rest upon ...
Página 116
Rufus Wilmot Griswold. THE LAST MAN . ALL worldly shapes shall melt in gloom , The sun himself must die , Before this mortal shall assume Its immortality ! I saw a vision in my sleep , That gave my spirit strength to sweep Adown the gulf ...
Rufus Wilmot Griswold. THE LAST MAN . ALL worldly shapes shall melt in gloom , The sun himself must die , Before this mortal shall assume Its immortality ! I saw a vision in my sleep , That gave my spirit strength to sweep Adown the gulf ...
Página 117
... gloom . Outspoke the victor then , As he hail'd them o'er the wave , " Ye are brothers ! ye are men ! And we conquer but to save : - So peace instead of death let us bring . But yield , proud foe , thy fleet , With the crews , at ...
... gloom . Outspoke the victor then , As he hail'd them o'er the wave , " Ye are brothers ! ye are men ! And we conquer but to save : - So peace instead of death let us bring . But yield , proud foe , thy fleet , With the crews , at ...
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The Poets and Poetry of England, in the Nineteenth Century Rufus Wilmot Griswold Vista de fragmentos - 1845 |
Términos y frases comunes
art thou beauty beneath blood bosom bower breast breath bright bright eye brow calm Catiline cheek child clouds cold dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth eyes fair falchion fancy fear feel flowers gaze gentle gleam gloom glory glow golden grave green grief hand happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven hope hour John of Procida Lady of Shalott Lars Porsena LEIGH HUNT life's light lips living lone look look'd Lord LORD BYRON lyre mighty morning mountain ne'er never night o'er pale pass'd poems poet rill rose round Samian wine seem'd shade sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stars stream sweet tears tempest thee thine things thou art thought tomb tree turn'd Twas vex'd voice waves weary weep wild wind wings youth
Pasajes populares
Página 51 - I cannot paint What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion : the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Página 188 - What though the spicy breezes Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle, Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile; In vain with lavish kindness The gifts of God are strown ; The heathen in his blindness Bows down to wood and stone.
Página 58 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart : Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea : Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou...
Página 230 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more...
Página 310 - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Página 91 - Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company! — To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay!
Página 68 - She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand ere her mother could bar, " Now tread we a measure,
Página 306 - 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 seem'da splendid angel, newly drest, Save wings, for heaven: — Porphyro grew faint: She knelt, so pure a thing, so free from mortal taint.
Página 57 - O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive! The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction : not indeed For that which is most worthy to be blest — Delight and liberty, the simple creed Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest, With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast: — Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us,...
Página 237 - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent ! THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.