Gems of the Modern Poets: With Biographical NoticesCarey and Hart, 1842 - 408 páginas |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 6-10 de 54
Página 43
... silence . So she pined and pined away , And for herself and baby toil'd and toil'd ; Nor did she , even on her death - bed , rest From labour , knitting there with lifted arms , Till she sunk with very weakness . Her old mother Omitted ...
... silence . So she pined and pined away , And for herself and baby toil'd and toil'd ; Nor did she , even on her death - bed , rest From labour , knitting there with lifted arms , Till she sunk with very weakness . Her old mother Omitted ...
Página 44
... . Now o'er the rocks that lay So silent late the shallow current roars ; Fast flow thy waters on their sea - ward way , Through wider - spreading shores . Avon ! I gaze and know The lesson emblem'd in 44 SOUTHEY . The Ebb Tide.
... . Now o'er the rocks that lay So silent late the shallow current roars ; Fast flow thy waters on their sea - ward way , Through wider - spreading shores . Avon ! I gaze and know The lesson emblem'd in 44 SOUTHEY . The Ebb Tide.
Página 46
... silent deck With him he valued ; -talk of them , of joys Which he had known , -oh God ! and of the hour When they should meet again , till his full heart , His manly heart , at last would overflow- Even like a child's - with very ...
... silent deck With him he valued ; -talk of them , of joys Which he had known , -oh God ! and of the hour When they should meet again , till his full heart , His manly heart , at last would overflow- Even like a child's - with very ...
Página 49
... silence of the evening hour , Heard I thee , thou busy , busy Bee . Thou art a miser , thou busy , busy Bee ! Late and early at employ ; Still on thy golden stores intent , Thy summer in heaping and hoarding is spent What thy winter ...
... silence of the evening hour , Heard I thee , thou busy , busy Bee . Thou art a miser , thou busy , busy Bee ! Late and early at employ ; Still on thy golden stores intent , Thy summer in heaping and hoarding is spent What thy winter ...
Página 50
... in the dread of death to think of her , Who , as she listens , sleepless , to the gale , Puts up a silent prayer and waxes pale ? O God ! have mercy on the mariner ! THOMAS MOORE was born in Dublin , on the 28th 50 SOUTHEY . Sonnet 44538.
... in the dread of death to think of her , Who , as she listens , sleepless , to the gale , Puts up a silent prayer and waxes pale ? O God ! have mercy on the mariner ! THOMAS MOORE was born in Dublin , on the 28th 50 SOUTHEY . Sonnet 44538.
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Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Gems of the Modern Poets: With Biographical Notices Samuel Carter Hall Sin vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Términos y frases comunes
beauty beneath bird born bower breast breath bright brow busy Bee calm Charles Dibdin Charles Lamb child Christ's Hospital cloud cold Dæmon dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth EDWIN HALE ABBOT fair fame fancy Farewell feel flowers friends gaze genius gentle glory gone grace grave green grief happy hath hear heard heart heaven holy orders hope hour human labour Lallah Rookh Leigh Hunt light living Lochinvar lonely look Lord Lord Byron maid Mary merry heart mind mother mountains nature ne'er never night o'er pale poems Poet poetry rose round sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow Sotheby soul sound spirit star sweet tears thee thine things Thomas Hood thou art thought Twas voice wander waves weary weep wild wind wings writings young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 276 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy tempests blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Página 58 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Página 176 - O'er moor and mountain green, O'er the red streamer that heralds the day, Over the cloudlet dim, Over the rainbow's rim, Musical cherub, soar, singing, away ! Then, when the gloaming comes, Low in the heather blooms Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be ! Emblem of happiness, Blest is thy dwelling-place — Oh, to abide in the desert with thee ! JAMES HOGG.
Página 10 - 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 15 - We in thought will join your throng, Ye that pipe and ye that play, Ye that through your hearts to-day Feel the gladness of the May ! What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower ; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind...
Página 63 - Thy brother Death came, and cried, "Would'st thou me?" Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noontide bee, "Shall I nestle near thy side? Would'st thou me?"— And I replied, "No, not thee.
Página 164 - Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest...
Página 279 - Then shook the hills with thunder riven; Then rush'd the steed, to battle driven; And louder than the bolts of Heaven Far flash'd the red artillery. But redder yet that light shall glow On Linden's hills of stained snow; And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 490 'Tis morn; but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy.
Página 41 - And often when I go to plough The ploughshare turns them out. For many thousand men/ said he, 'Were slain in that great victory.' 'Now tell us what 'twas all about...
Página 17 - Thus Nature spake — The work was done — How soon my Lucy's race was run! She died, and left to me This heath, this calm, and quiet scene; The memory of what has been, And never more will be.