A New Library of Poetry and Song, المجلد 2William Cullen Bryant J. B. Ford, 1877 - 934 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 461
... sleep till morn when Youth and Pleasure meet - To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet , But , hark ! that heavy sound breaks in once more , As if the clouds its echo would repeat ; And nearer , clearer , deadlier than before ! Arm ...
... sleep till morn when Youth and Pleasure meet - To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet , But , hark ! that heavy sound breaks in once more , As if the clouds its echo would repeat ; And nearer , clearer , deadlier than before ! Arm ...
الصفحة 465
... sleep , a saddle to our pillow , A hedge the Curtaine , Canopy a Willow . There if a child but cry , O what a spite ! Here we can brook three larums in one night . There homely rooms must be perfumed with Roses ; Here match and powder ...
... sleep , a saddle to our pillow , A hedge the Curtaine , Canopy a Willow . There if a child but cry , O what a spite ! Here we can brook three larums in one night . There homely rooms must be perfumed with Roses ; Here match and powder ...
الصفحة 471
... sleep ; and I had my dream " But , hark ! the far bugles their warnings. " T was a moonset at starting ; but while we drew near Lokeren , the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear ; At Boom a great yellow star came out to see ; At Düffeld ...
... sleep ; and I had my dream " But , hark ! the far bugles their warnings. " T was a moonset at starting ; but while we drew near Lokeren , the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear ; At Boom a great yellow star came out to see ; At Düffeld ...
الصفحة 479
... sleep till the judgment - day , Heart folded to heart , and face to face . SARAH T. BOLTON . THE DRUMMER - BOY'S BURIAL . ALL day long the storm of battle through the startled valley swept ; All night long the stars in heaven o'er the ...
... sleep till the judgment - day , Heart folded to heart , and face to face . SARAH T. BOLTON . THE DRUMMER - BOY'S BURIAL . ALL day long the storm of battle through the startled valley swept ; All night long the stars in heaven o'er the ...
الصفحة 480
... sleep , and the wounded to die . When reposing that night on my pallet of straw , By the wolf - scaring fagot that guarded the slain ; At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw , And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again ...
... sleep , and the wounded to die . When reposing that night on my pallet of straw , By the wolf - scaring fagot that guarded the slain ; At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw , And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
arms beauty bells beneath blessed blood blow blue brave breast breath bright cold comes cried dark dead dear death deep dream earth eyes face fair fall fear feel fell field fire flowers give gold grave green hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hour Italy JOHN king land leaves light live look Lord mind morning never night o'er once pass peace poor rest rise rock rolled rose round seemed seen shore side sing sleep smile song soul sound spirit stand stars stood stream strong sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought thousand Till true turned voice wave wild wind wings wonder young
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 626 - Earth has not anything to show more fair : Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers,, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
الصفحة 815 - 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.
الصفحة 556 - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on.
الصفحة 783 - Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water everywhere Nor any drop to drink.
الصفحة 709 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull Night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise; Then to come, in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good morrow, Through the sweet-brier, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine...
الصفحة 461 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet — But hark!
الصفحة 818 - Peace to all such! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires; Blest with each talent, and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease; Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
الصفحة 723 - The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
الصفحة 709 - Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful jollity, Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek : Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go, On the light fantastic toe...
الصفحة 657 - Hear the tolling of the bells Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people - ah, the people They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who tolling, tolling...