The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language: Selected and Arranged with Notes. Book fourthFrederick A. Stokes Company, 1890 - 266 páginas |
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Página 17
... gone . ' [ Milton's Lycidas . ] No. 13. Written in 1799 . The Argument . — It was not till he left England that the poet knew the strength of his love of country and the nature of the feeling as rooted in the domestic affections . Among ...
... gone . ' [ Milton's Lycidas . ] No. 13. Written in 1799 . The Argument . — It was not till he left England that the poet knew the strength of his love of country and the nature of the feeling as rooted in the domestic affections . Among ...
Página 30
... gone , And noon lay heavy on flower and tree , And the weary Day turn'd to his rest Lingering like an unloved guest , I sigh'd for thee . Thy brother Death came , and cried Wouldst thou me ? Thy sweet child Sleep , the filmy - eyed ...
... gone , And noon lay heavy on flower and tree , And the weary Day turn'd to his rest Lingering like an unloved guest , I sigh'd for thee . Thy brother Death came , and cried Wouldst thou me ? Thy sweet child Sleep , the filmy - eyed ...
Página 31
... gone from him sends him no message of love the poet asks to be told the worst - even should that be desertion and desolation . The following is from the note prefixed to this sonnet ( without date ) in the collected edition- ' In the ...
... gone from him sends him no message of love the poet asks to be told the worst - even should that be desertion and desolation . The following is from the note prefixed to this sonnet ( without date ) in the collected edition- ' In the ...
Página 39
... gone is that communion of souls , which was to the mingling of hearts what its parent cloud is to the rainbow , or the lute to its own sweet music : and when the soul ceases to respond , neither can the heart render its ac- customed ...
... gone is that communion of souls , which was to the mingling of hearts what its parent cloud is to the rainbow , or the lute to its own sweet music : and when the soul ceases to respond , neither can the heart render its ac- customed ...
Página 66
... gone from Allan - Bank in Gras- mere Vale , where we were then residing to the top of the Raise- gap , as it is called , so late as two o'clock in the morning , to meet the carrier bringing the news- paper from Keswick . Imperfect ...
... gone from Allan - Bank in Gras- mere Vale , where we were then residing to the top of the Raise- gap , as it is called , so late as two o'clock in the morning , to meet the carrier bringing the news- paper from Keswick . Imperfect ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todo
The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language Francis Turner Palgrave Vista de fragmentos - 1929 |
GOLDEN TREAS OF THE BEST SONGS Francis Turner 1824-1897 Palgrave No hay ninguna vista previa disponible - 2016 |
GOLDEN TREAS OF THE BEST SONGS Francis Turner 1824-1897 Palgrave No hay ninguna vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Términos y frases comunes
Alfoxden Argument.-The Author's note beauty behold beneath birds bonny bower Braes of Yarrow breath bright Brignall Busk ye child cloud Clovenford Compare County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dream earth eyes fair fear feel flowers frae glory gone Grasmere green H. F. Lyte happy hath hear heard heart heaven hills Keats lady leaves light lines live look Lord Byron lover Milton mind moon morning mountain mournful Nature's ne'er Neidpath Castle never night o'er P. B. Shelley Paradise Paradise Lost Piobaireachd pleasure poem poet Prometheus Unbound Revolt of Islam round S. T. Coleridge seem'd Shelley's silent sing sleep smile soft song sonnet sorrow soul spirit Spring star storm stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought Tintern Abbey trees twas verse voice wandering waves weep wild wind-flowers winds wings woods Wordsworth Written youth
Pasajes populares
Página 74 - 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 55 - And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow. The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
Página 235 - 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 splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind.
Página 38 - And there she lulled me asleep And there I dream'd— Ah! woe betide! The latest dream I ever dream'd On the cold hill's side. I saw pale kings, and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; They cried— "La Belle Dame sans Merci Hath thee in thrall!
Página 120 - ODE TO A NIGHTINGALE My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Página 127 - Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed: And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Página 134 - Reaper Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Página 68 - Milton ! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Página 13 - I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright : I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me — who knows how ? — To thy chamber-window, sweet ! The wandering airs they faint On the dark, the silent stream — The champak odours fail Like sweet thoughts in a dream ; The nightingale's complaint, It dies upon her heart...
Página 245 - With a soft inland murmur. — Once again Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs, That on a wild secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion ; and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky.