The new poetical reader, ed. by J.C. CurtisJohn Charles Curtis 1872 - 160 páginas |
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Página vi
... NATURE DAUGHTERS . VICTORIA'S TEARS • • • • AND Lord Byron R. Browning . 60 65 · • 67 68 · 69 · • 69 70 • 71 · • 71 · 7. H. Newman 72 · Mrs. E. B. Browning 75 76 HER R. Browning . C. Kingsley SIR NICHOLAS AT MARSTON MOOR W. M. Praed ...
... NATURE DAUGHTERS . VICTORIA'S TEARS • • • • AND Lord Byron R. Browning . 60 65 · • 67 68 · 69 · • 69 70 • 71 · • 71 · 7. H. Newman 72 · Mrs. E. B. Browning 75 76 HER R. Browning . C. Kingsley SIR NICHOLAS AT MARSTON MOOR W. M. Praed ...
Página 14
... shall grow old , Or let me die ! The child is father of the man , And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety . MARGARET WILSON . - F . T. Palgrave . FOUR 14 The New Poetical Reader . THE RAINBOW.
... shall grow old , Or let me die ! The child is father of the man , And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety . MARGARET WILSON . - F . T. Palgrave . FOUR 14 The New Poetical Reader . THE RAINBOW.
Página 23
... at noon , when returned from the field , I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure , The purest and sweetest , that nature can yield . How ardent I seized it , with hands that were The New Poetical Reader . 23 THE BUCKET.
... at noon , when returned from the field , I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure , The purest and sweetest , that nature can yield . How ardent I seized it , with hands that were The New Poetical Reader . 23 THE BUCKET.
Página 54
... Nature's great heart . From the dark cloud flows the life giving shower ; From the rough sod blows the soft breathing flower ; From the small insect the rich coral bower ; Only man , in the plan , shrinks from his part . Labour is life ...
... Nature's great heart . From the dark cloud flows the life giving shower ; From the rough sod blows the soft breathing flower ; From the small insect the rich coral bower ; Only man , in the plan , shrinks from his part . Labour is life ...
Página 69
... Nature speaks of Heaven ! ' THE GLADIATOR . - Byron . I SEE before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand - his manly brow Consents to death , but conquers agony , And his droop'd head sinks gradually low- And through his side ...
... Nature speaks of Heaven ! ' THE GLADIATOR . - Byron . I SEE before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand - his manly brow Consents to death , but conquers agony , And his droop'd head sinks gradually low- And through his side ...
Términos y frases comunes
Angel Art thou Arth Avés beneath Birkenhead blast blood brave breast breath bright brow calm child Church of Brou cloud Crom Cromwell crown Dalhem Danube dark days of Childhood dead dear death deep dream Duchess earth England eyes F. T. Palgrave fair falchion fear flower gallant galloped giveth His beloved glory golden grace grave hand Hark hath head hear heard heart heaven Her's hill honour Hubert King Robert light look Lord Lucknow mighty mighty heart morning mother mountain Neath never night o'er old oaken bucket pibroch prayer rest rock roll round Saint Andrew's cross Saint Peter's square shalt shine shore shout Sicily sight silence sing sleep smile Somebody's Darling song soul sound strife sweet SWEET day tears thee thine thou art thought thunder thunderpeal tomb trees Valmond voice wave weep wept wild wind
Pasajes populares
Página 136 - Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touched his body, that did stab, And not for justice ? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
Página 93 - Ye Ice-falls ! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain — Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge ! Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts ! Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? — God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer ! and let the ice-plains echo,...
Página 138 - I could weep My spirit from mine eyes ! There is my dagger, And here my naked breast; within, a heart Dearer than Plutus...
Página 92 - Thou first and chief, sole sovereign of the Vale ! O struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky or when they sink...
Página 24 - That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure; For often, at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing 1 And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell ; Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well — The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket arose from the well.
Página 109 - — and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone ; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets
Página 105 - Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend. But is there for the night a resting-place? A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face? You cannot miss that inn.
Página 107 - I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he ; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three ; " Good speed ! " cried the watch, as the gatebolts undrew ; "Speed...
Página 122 - The sun was gone now ; the curled moon Was like a little feather Fluttering far down the gulf ; and now She spoke through the still weather. Her voice was like the voice the stars Had when they sang together.
Página 70 - OH, TO BE in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England - now...