Cyclopædia of English literature, Volumen 21844 |
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Página 23
... rill , Sat upon a flowery bed , With my hand beneath my head ; While strayed my eyes o'er Towy's flood , Over mead , and over wood , From house to house , from hill to hill , Till contemplation had her fill . About his chequered sides I ...
... rill , Sat upon a flowery bed , With my hand beneath my head ; While strayed my eyes o'er Towy's flood , Over mead , and over wood , From house to house , from hill to hill , Till contemplation had her fill . About his chequered sides I ...
Página 44
... continents of sand , will turn his gaze To mark the windings of a scanty rill That murmurs at his feet ? The high - born soul Disdains to rest her heaven - aspiring wing Beneath its 44 FROM 1727 TO 1780 . CYCLOPEDIA OF.
... continents of sand , will turn his gaze To mark the windings of a scanty rill That murmurs at his feet ? The high - born soul Disdains to rest her heaven - aspiring wing Beneath its 44 FROM 1727 TO 1780 . CYCLOPEDIA OF.
Página 46
... rill Joins in his plaint , melodious ; mute the groves ; And hill and dale with all their echoes mourn . Such and so various are the tastes of men . O blest of heaven ! whom not the languid songs Of luxury , the siren ! not the bribes ...
... rill Joins in his plaint , melodious ; mute the groves ; And hill and dale with all their echoes mourn . Such and so various are the tastes of men . O blest of heaven ! whom not the languid songs Of luxury , the siren ! not the bribes ...
Página 56
... 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 ...
... 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 87
... rill , The sickness of my soul declare . But yet , with fortitude resigned , I'll thank the inflicter of the blow ; Forbid the sigh , compose my mind , Nor let the gush of misery flow . The gloomy mantle of the night , Which on my ...
... rill , The sickness of my soul declare . But yet , with fortitude resigned , I'll thank the inflicter of the blow ; Forbid the sigh , compose my mind , Nor let the gush of misery flow . The gloomy mantle of the night , Which on my ...
Índice
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322 | |
337 | |
389 | |
399 | |
461 | |
468 | |
490 | |
202 | |
213 | |
221 | |
244 | |
251 | |
256 | |
286 | |
296 | |
303 | |
560 | |
571 | |
594 | |
619 | |
629 | |
636 | |
676 | |
683 | |
705 | |
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Términos y frases comunes
ancient appeared beauty beneath blank verse breast breath bright character charms clouds Colonsay dark dear death deep delight Dr Johnson earth England fair fame fancy father fear feel flowers genius grace grave green hand happy hast hear heard heart heaven hill honour hope Horace Walpole hour human king labour Lady light live look Lord Lord Byron lyre mind moral morning mountains mourn muse native nature never night o'er pain passion peace pleasure poem poet poetical poetry praise pride published racter rill Rodmond round scene Scotland seems shade sigh Sir Walter Scott sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stream style sublime sweet taste tears tender thee thou thought tion Tom Jones Twas uncle Toby vale verse virtue voice wandering wave wild wind young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 410 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
Página 32 - How sleep the brave who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! ODE TO MERCY.
Página 398 - 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. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Página 327 - 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 56 - Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, "Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn...
Página 340 - Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And, having once turned round, walks on, And turns no more his head, Because he knows a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread.
Página 219 - In thoughts from the visions of the night, When deep sleep falleth on men, Fear came upon me, and trembling, Which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face; The hair of my flesh stood up: It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: An image was before mine eyes, There was silence, and I heard a voice, saying, Shall mortal man be more just than God?
Página 406 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
Página 327 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue. And I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man...
Página 406 - Darkling I listen ; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, — Called him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath, — Now more than ever seems it rich to die ; To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod.