The Laurel and Lyre. Fugitive Poetry of the Nineteenth CenturyFrederick Warne and Company, 1879 - 400 من الصفحات |
من داخل الكتاب
النتائج 1-5 من 38
الصفحة 2
... bosom of a mountain , Where the fairy people dwell , By the cold and sunless fountain ! Breathless as a holy shrine , When the voice of psalms is shed ! And there upon her stately bed , While her raven locks recline O'er an arm more ...
... bosom of a mountain , Where the fairy people dwell , By the cold and sunless fountain ! Breathless as a holy shrine , When the voice of psalms is shed ! And there upon her stately bed , While her raven locks recline O'er an arm more ...
الصفحة 5
... bosom , brow , and cheek , For their own fair , delightful sakes , And lays her lovely limbs at rest ; When , stirring like the wondrous flower That blossoms at the midnight hour , And only then - the Lady wakes ! From the heavy load ...
... bosom , brow , and cheek , For their own fair , delightful sakes , And lays her lovely limbs at rest ; When , stirring like the wondrous flower That blossoms at the midnight hour , And only then - the Lady wakes ! From the heavy load ...
الصفحة 13
... bosom Anna tries- " The spring again returns , bleak winter flies , Even now the golden crocuses are seen , And soon the woodlands will resume their green ; When you are well , delighted we shall rove 13 The wood - paths through , and ...
... bosom Anna tries- " The spring again returns , bleak winter flies , Even now the golden crocuses are seen , And soon the woodlands will resume their green ; When you are well , delighted we shall rove 13 The wood - paths through , and ...
الصفحة 15
... bosom on its foam , And all my youthful years I made Its shores and rocks my home ; I dash'd among its breakers white , And breathed their freshness with delight , They often sooth'd my misery- The sea , the sea for me ! Absence of ...
... bosom on its foam , And all my youthful years I made Its shores and rocks my home ; I dash'd among its breakers white , And breathed their freshness with delight , They often sooth'd my misery- The sea , the sea for me ! Absence of ...
الصفحة 27
... vest apart , To catch heaven's blessed breeze ; For a burning thought was in his brow , And his bosom ill at ease : So he lean'd his head on his hands , and read The book between his knees . Leaf after leaf he turn'd it o'er , Nor ever.
... vest apart , To catch heaven's blessed breeze ; For a burning thought was in his brow , And his bosom ill at ease : So he lean'd his head on his hands , and read The book between his knees . Leaf after leaf he turn'd it o'er , Nor ever.
المحتوى
75 | |
77 | |
78 | |
94 | |
103 | |
115 | |
131 | |
142 | |
146 | |
156 | |
163 | |
173 | |
176 | |
177 | |
178 | |
189 | |
192 | |
207 | |
303 | |
312 | |
328 | |
333 | |
352 | |
354 | |
357 | |
359 | |
374 | |
376 | |
381 | |
384 | |
387 | |
393 | |
394 | |
398 | |
399 | |
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
91 Lines ALARIC ALLAN CUNNINGHAM BARRY CORNWALL beauty beneath bird bless'd bloom bosom breast breath bright brow call'd CAROLINE BOWLES cheek child clouds cold dark dead dear death deep dream earth Eugene Aram face fade fair Farewell fear feel flowers gaze gentle gleam glory grave green grief hath heard heart heaven Here's hope hour JOHN KEATS kiss lady life's light lips lonely look look'd LORD BYRON lute lyre Mermaid Tavern MISS LANDON Mont Blanc morning mother ne'er never night o'er pale pass'd pride redundant song rock rose round seem'd shine shore sigh silent skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star storm stream summer sweet tears thee thine THOMAS HOOD thou art thought tomb tree Twas voice wallflower wandering wave weep wild wild dance wind wings youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 70 - Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd 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.
الصفحة 69 - Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth! O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...
الصفحة 333 - Now let there be the merry sound of music and of dance, Through thy corn-fields green, and sunny vines, oh pleasant land of France ! And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters, Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters. As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy, For cold, and stiff, and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy.
الصفحة 70 - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down : The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn ; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
الصفحة 176 - I have heard that on a day Mine host's sign-board flew away, Nobody knew whither, till An astrologer's old quill To a sheepskin gave the story...
الصفحة 69 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
الصفحة 71 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
الصفحة 40 - That time is past, And all its aching joys are now no more, And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur; other gifts Have followed; for such loss, I would believe, Abundant recompense.
الصفحة 27 - The Usher took six hasty strides, As smit with sudden pain, Six hasty strides beyond the place, Then slowly back again; And down he sat beside the lad, And talked with him of Cain; And, long since then, of bloody men, Whose deeds tradition saves; Of lonely folk cut off unseen, And hid in sudden graves; Of horrid stabs, in groves forlorn, And murders done in caves...
الصفحة 379 - I remember, I remember Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing; My spirit flew in feathers then That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow.