The Poetical Works of Samuel RogersE.H. Butler, 1852 - 451 páginas |
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Página 55
... wandering tribes require , Stretched in the desert round their evening fire ; As any sung of old in hall or bower To minstrel - harps at midnight's witching hour ! Born in a trance , we wake , observe , inquire ; And the green earth ...
... wandering tribes require , Stretched in the desert round their evening fire ; As any sung of old in hall or bower To minstrel - harps at midnight's witching hour ! Born in a trance , we wake , observe , inquire ; And the green earth ...
Página 60
... wandering eye - now many a written thought Never to die , with many a lisping sweet His moving , murmuring lips endeavour to repeat . Released , he chases the bright butterfly ; Oh he would follow - follow through the sky ! Climbs the ...
... wandering eye - now many a written thought Never to die , with many a lisping sweet His moving , murmuring lips endeavour to repeat . Released , he chases the bright butterfly ; Oh he would follow - follow through the sky ! Climbs the ...
Página 63
... wandering without measure Thro ' sun and shade , lost in a trance of pleasure ; And , if to Fear but for a weary mile , Hope follows fast and wins him with a smile . At length he goes - a Pilgrim to the Shrine , And for a relic would a ...
... wandering without measure Thro ' sun and shade , lost in a trance of pleasure ; And , if to Fear but for a weary mile , Hope follows fast and wins him with a smile . At length he goes - a Pilgrim to the Shrine , And for a relic would a ...
Página 65
... wander till the day is gone , Lost in each other ; and when Night steals on , Covering them round , how sweet her accents are ! Oh when she turns and speaks , her voice is far , Far above singing ! -But soon nothing stirs To break the ...
... wander till the day is gone , Lost in each other ; and when Night steals on , Covering them round , how sweet her accents are ! Oh when she turns and speaks , her voice is far , Far above singing ! -But soon nothing stirs To break the ...
Página 66
... to hear The otter rustling in the sedgy mere ; Or to the echo near the Abbot's tree , That gave him back his words of pleasantry- When the House stood , no merrier man than he ! } And , as they wander with a keen delight , 66 HUMAN LIFE .
... to hear The otter rustling in the sedgy mere ; Or to the echo near the Abbot's tree , That gave him back his words of pleasantry- When the House stood , no merrier man than he ! } And , as they wander with a keen delight , 66 HUMAN LIFE .
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Otras ediciones - Ver todo
Términos y frases comunes
age to age ancient beautiful blessed blest Boccaccio breathe bright called charm child Cicero CIMABUE cliff clouds Columbus cried dark dead death delight dream earth ELEONORA DI TOLEDO Euripides eyes father fear fled FLORENCE flowers gate gazed GENOA gentle gilt glimmering glory glows gold Gondolier gone grave grey grove hand hast heard heart heaven holy hour hung Icarius light lived look MARTIN FARQUHAR TUPPER mind MONTESQUIEU Morocco night noblest o'er once passed Pausanias Petrarch pleasure rest rise round sacred sail sate says scene shade shifting sail shine shore sigh silent sing sitting sleep smile song soon soul spirit spoke stir stood stranger sung sweet tears thee thine things thou thought thro Titian tower triumphs turned Twas VENICE voice walls wander wave weep whence wild wind wings young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 149 - MINE be a cot beside the hill, A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear ; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall, shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch Shall twitter from her clay-built nest ; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest.
Página 289 - Her pranks the favourite theme of every tongue. But now the day was come, the day, the hour ; Now frowning, smiling for the hundredth...
Página 104 - But little do men perceive what solitude is, and how far it extendeth. For a crowd is not company, and faces are but a gallery of pictures, and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love.
Página 290 - That mouldering chest was noticed; and 'twas said By one as young, as thoughtless as Ginevra, Why not remove it from its lurking place? 'Twas done as soon as said; but on the way It burst, it fell; and lo, a skeleton, With here and there a pearl, an emerald-stone, A golden clasp, clasping a shred of gold.
Página 438 - Of law there can be no less acknowledged, than that her seat is the bosom of God, her voice the harmony of the world ; all things in heaven and earth do her homage, the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from her power...
Página 86 - I began thus far to assent both to them and divers of my friends here at home ; and not less to an inward prompting which now grew daily upon me, that by labour and intent study, which I take to be my portion in- this life, joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written to after-times, as they should not willingly let it die.
Página 81 - O eloquent, just, and mighty Death! whom none could advise, thou hast persuaded; what none hath dared, thou hast done; and whom all the world hath flattered, thou only hast cast out of the world and despised : thou hast drawn together all the far-stretched greatness, all the pride, cruelty, and ambition of man, and covered it all over with these two narrow words, Hie jacet.
Página 85 - I wis, all their sport in the park is but a shadow to that pleasure that I find in Plato. Alas ! good folk, they never felt what true pleasure meant.
Página 55 - And, crowding, stop the cradle to admire The babe, the sleeping image of his sire. A few short years — and then these sounds shall hail The day again, and gladness fill the vale ; So soon the child a youth, the youth a man, Eager to run the race his fathers ran. Then the huge ox shall yield the broad sirloin ; The ale, now...
Página 30 - SWEET MEMORY, wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail, To view the fairy-haunts of long-lost hours, Blest with far greener shades, far fresher flowers. Ages and climes remote to Thee impart What charms in Genius and refines in Art ; Thee, in whose hands the keys of Science dwell, The pensive portress of her holy cell ; Whose constant vigils chase the chilling damp Oblivion steals upon her vestal-lamp.