Chambers's Cyclopædia of English Literature: A History, Critical and Biographical, of British Authors, with Specimens of Their Writings, المجلد 2Robert Chambers, Robert Carruthers W. & R. Chambers, 1876 |
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الصفحة 22
... Wild , soothing , tender , undefined , Played lightly round the heart , and shed Delicious languor o'er the mind . So hours like moments winged their flight , Till now the boatmen on the shore , Impatient of the waning light , Recalled ...
... Wild , soothing , tender , undefined , Played lightly round the heart , and shed Delicious languor o'er the mind . So hours like moments winged their flight , Till now the boatmen on the shore , Impatient of the waning light , Recalled ...
الصفحة 29
... wild rose or woodbine's gadding flowers ; Weaving gay wreaths beneath some sheltering tree , The sense of sorrow he a while may lose ; So have I sought thy flowers , fair Poesy ! So charmed my way with friendship and the Muse . But ...
... wild rose or woodbine's gadding flowers ; Weaving gay wreaths beneath some sheltering tree , The sense of sorrow he a while may lose ; So have I sought thy flowers , fair Poesy ! So charmed my way with friendship and the Muse . But ...
الصفحة 34
... wild ! whose purple glow Adorns the dusky mountain's side , Not the gay hues of Iris ' bow , Nor garden's artful varied pride , With all its wealth of sweets , could cheer , Like thee , the hardy mountaineer . Flower of his heart ! thy ...
... wild ! whose purple glow Adorns the dusky mountain's side , Not the gay hues of Iris ' bow , Nor garden's artful varied pride , With all its wealth of sweets , could cheer , Like thee , the hardy mountaineer . Flower of his heart ! thy ...
الصفحة 36
... Wild Flowers , Hazlewood Hall , a village drama , and Mayday with the Muses . The last was published in the year of his death , and opens with a fine burst of poetical , though melancholy feeling . O for the strength to paint my joy ...
... Wild Flowers , Hazlewood Hall , a village drama , and Mayday with the Muses . The last was published in the year of his death , and opens with a fine burst of poetical , though melancholy feeling . O for the strength to paint my joy ...
الصفحة 37
... wild thyme grew ; Nor moss elastic , flowers though sweet , Matched Hannah's cheek of rosy hue . I met her where the dark woods wave , And shaded verdure skirts the plain ; And when the pale moon rising gave New glories to her rising ...
... wild thyme grew ; Nor moss elastic , flowers though sweet , Matched Hannah's cheek of rosy hue . I met her where the dark woods wave , And shaded verdure skirts the plain ; And when the pale moon rising gave New glories to her rising ...
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admiration afterwards ancient appeared beauty born breath bright Burns Byron caliph character Charles Lamb charm clouds dark dear death deep delight died earth Edinburgh Edinburgh Review edition England English eyes fair fancy father fear feeling flowers frae French Revolution genius grave green hand happy Harriet Lee hath heard heart heaven hill honour hope hour Italy John labour lady Lady Morgan light literary live look Lord Lord Byron MATTHEW GREGORY LEWIS mind moral morning mountain native nature never night novel o'er passion poem poet poetical poetry published round says scene Scotland Scott Scottish seemed shew Sir Walter Scott sleep smile song soon soul Southey spirit style sweet tale taste tears thee thou thought tion Twas Vathek verse voice volumes wandering Whig wild William wind writing wrote young youth
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الصفحة 64 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love. A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
الصفحة 65 - Is lightened : — that serene and blessed mood, In which the affections gently lead us on. — Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul : While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
الصفحة 140 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: — Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
الصفحة 134 - Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, • Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
الصفحة 126 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll ! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore; — upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain...
الصفحة 139 - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
الصفحة 142 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
الصفحة 142 - 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.
الصفحة 142 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him ! But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring, And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
الصفحة 155 - Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" — The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, " The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so," Replied the angel. — Abou spoke more low, But cheerily still; and said, " I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.