Festival of Song: A Series of Evenings with the Poets |
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Página 19
Let us , then , leave the fictitious and turn to the real — let us accompany the
genial author of The Sketch - Book , and seek the grave of Shakspeare : - “ The
place is solemn and sepulchral : tall elms wave before the pointed windows , and
the ...
Let us , then , leave the fictitious and turn to the real — let us accompany the
genial author of The Sketch - Book , and seek the grave of Shakspeare : - “ The
place is solemn and sepulchral : tall elms wave before the pointed windows , and
the ...
Página 28
A Series of Evenings with the Poets Frederick Saunders. From The Tempest :
Come unto these yellow sands , And then take hands ; Court'sied when you have
, and kissed , ( The wild waves whist ! ) Foot it featly here and there ; And , sweet.
A Series of Evenings with the Poets Frederick Saunders. From The Tempest :
Come unto these yellow sands , And then take hands ; Court'sied when you have
, and kissed , ( The wild waves whist ! ) Foot it featly here and there ; And , sweet.
Página 91
There is a great charm about this poem ; its numbers seem to lull one into a
dreamy sense of pleasure ; note this stanza :A pleasing land of drowsy herd it
was , Of dreams that wave before the half - shut eye ; And of gay castles in the
clouds ...
There is a great charm about this poem ; its numbers seem to lull one into a
dreamy sense of pleasure ; note this stanza :A pleasing land of drowsy herd it
was , Of dreams that wave before the half - shut eye ; And of gay castles in the
clouds ...
Página 110
Hark , how each giant - oak , and desert - cave , Sighs to the torrent's awful voice
beneath ! O'er thee , oh King ! their hundred arms they wave , Revenge on thee in
hoarser murmurs breathe : Vocal no more , since Cambria's fatal day To high ...
Hark , how each giant - oak , and desert - cave , Sighs to the torrent's awful voice
beneath ! O'er thee , oh King ! their hundred arms they wave , Revenge on thee in
hoarser murmurs breathe : Vocal no more , since Cambria's fatal day To high ...
Página 119
Oh , stretch thy mighty hand , gigantic grown by toil , O'er the vast Atlantic wave to
our shore ! For thou with magic might Canst reach to where the light Of Phæbus
travels bright The world o'er . The poem thus ends :While the manners , while ...
Oh , stretch thy mighty hand , gigantic grown by toil , O'er the vast Atlantic wave to
our shore ! For thou with magic might Canst reach to where the light Of Phæbus
travels bright The world o'er . The poem thus ends :While the manners , while ...
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A Festival of Song: A Series of Evenings with the Greatest Poets of the ... Frederick Saunders No hay ninguna vista previa disponible - 2015 |
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Términos y frases comunes
angels Aowers beautiful bells bird breath bright charm child close clouds comes dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth eyes face fair fall fear feel field flowers gentle give glory glow golden grace grave green growing hand happy hath head hear heart heaven hope hour human kiss leaves light lines live look memory mind morning nature never night o'er once pass passage play pleasure poem poet poetry rest rich rose round seems seen shine sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit Spring stanzas stars stream summer sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought touching trees turn voice wandering wave wild wind wings woods young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 69 - Now came still evening on, and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad ; Silence accompanied ; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale, She all night long her amorous descant sung...
Página 68 - These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty ! Thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair: Thyself how wondrous then ! Unspeakable! who sitt'st above these heavens, To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works ; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Página 39 - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Página 276 - Like a poet hidden, In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...
Página 21 - With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life ; But that the dread of something after death, — The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, — puzzles the will ; And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of?
Página 274 - 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 135 - He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all. And, as a bird each fond endearment tries, To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Página 31 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments : love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove : O no ; it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests, and is never shaken ; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth 's unknown, although his height be taken.
Página 63 - The Oracles are dumb ; No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving : No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Página 220 - Oft in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond memory brings the light Of other days around me: The smiles, the tears Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone, Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken! Thus in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Sad memory brings the light Of other days around me.
Información bibliográfica
| Título | Festival of Song: A Series of Evenings with the Poets |
| Autor | Frederick Saunders |
| Editor | Bunce and Huntington, 1866 |
| Procedencia del original | la Biblioteca Pública de Nueva York |
| Digitalizado | 23 Nov 2006 |
| N.º de páginas | 376 páginas |
| Exportar cita | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |