Patriotic Song: a Book of English Verse: Being an Anthology of the Patriotic Poetry of the British Empire from the Defeat of the Spanish Armada Till the Death of Queen Victoria ...Arnold, 1903 - 363 من الصفحات |
من داخل الكتاب
النتائج 1-5 من 45
الصفحة 17
... heard of , say , I taught thee , Say , Wolsey , that once trod the ways of glory , And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour , Found thee a way , out of his wreck , to rise in ; A sure and safe one , though thy master miss'd it ...
... heard of , say , I taught thee , Say , Wolsey , that once trod the ways of glory , And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour , Found thee a way , out of his wreck , to rise in ; A sure and safe one , though thy master miss'd it ...
الصفحة 51
... heard a voice exclaim , ' Though fierce the assault , and shattered the defence , It cannot be that Britain's social frame , The glorious work of time and providence , Before a flying season's rash pretence , Should fall ; that She ...
... heard a voice exclaim , ' Though fierce the assault , and shattered the defence , It cannot be that Britain's social frame , The glorious work of time and providence , Before a flying season's rash pretence , Should fall ; that She ...
الصفحة 52
... heard the fated thunder's sound , Till burst the bolt on yonder shore , Rolled , blazed , destroyed , and was no more . Nor mourn ye less his perished worth , Who bade the conqueror go forth , And launched that thunderbolt of war On ...
... heard the fated thunder's sound , Till burst the bolt on yonder shore , Rolled , blazed , destroyed , and was no more . Nor mourn ye less his perished worth , Who bade the conqueror go forth , And launched that thunderbolt of war On ...
الصفحة 60
... heard no more , And the storm has ceased to blow . Thomas Campbell . XLVI THE BATTLE OF THE BALTIC Or Nelson and the North Sing the glorious day's renown , When to battle fierce came forth All the might of Denmark's crown , And her arms ...
... heard no more , And the storm has ceased to blow . Thomas Campbell . XLVI THE BATTLE OF THE BALTIC Or Nelson and the North Sing the glorious day's renown , When to battle fierce came forth All the might of Denmark's crown , And her arms ...
الصفحة 69
... heard , and heard , too , have her Saxon foes : - How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills , Savage and shrill ! But with the breath which fills Their mountain - pipe , so fill the mountaineers With the fierce native daring which ...
... heard , and heard , too , have her Saxon foes : - How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills , Savage and shrill ! But with the breath which fills Their mountain - pipe , so fill the mountaineers With the fierce native daring which ...
المحتوى
56 | |
63 | |
69 | |
78 | |
80 | |
90 | |
97 | |
103 | |
112 | |
118 | |
125 | |
131 | |
132 | |
139 | |
147 | |
155 | |
219 | |
233 | |
239 | |
247 | |
258 | |
267 | |
275 | |
285 | |
293 | |
299 | |
307 | |
315 | |
323 | |
334 | |
357 | |
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Algernon Charles Swinburne battle beneath blood blow Bonnie Dundee boys brave breath breeze bright Britain bugles blown burning captain carries the gun Charlie cheer crown dark Dark Rosaleen dear death deep earth England English eyes face fair fame Felicia Hemans fight flag Flag of England Francis Turner Palgrave gallant glorious glory grave green grey guard hame hand harp hath hear heard heart Hearts of oak heroes hills honour island Isle Kenmure's King land light live Lord mighty morn mother ne'er never night o'er ocean peace Plymouth Hoe Poems pride proud Queen Richard Chenevix Trench Robert Burns Rosaleen round round shot sail Samian wine shine ship shore sing sleep snotties soldier song sons soul sound spirit stand star storm sweet sword tears thee There's thine Thomas Moore thou thunder towers voice warrior waves weep wild wind
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 94 - For while the tired waves, vainly breaking, Seem here no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making, Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
الصفحة 211 - In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs — and God has given my share — I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose...
الصفحة 24 - CROMWELL, our chief of men, who through a cloud Not of war only, but detractions rude, Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, To peace and truth thy glorious way hast ploughed...
الصفحة 14 - From camp to camp through the foul womb of night The hum of either army stilly sounds, That the fixed sentinels almost receive The secret whispers of each other's watch...
الصفحة 46 - Bring me my bow of burning gold! Bring me my arrows of desire! Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold! Bring me my chariot of fire! I will not cease from mental fight, nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, till we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land.
الصفحة 15 - God of battles ! steel my soldiers' hearts! Possess them not with fear ; take from them now The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers Pluck their hearts from them ! — Not to-day, O Lord, O not to-day, think not upon the fault My father made in compassing the crown...
الصفحة 5 - FAIR stood the wind for France When we our sails advance, Nor now to prove our chance Longer will tarry; But putting to the main, At Caux, the mouth of Seine, With all his martial train, Landed King Harry.
الصفحة 67 - Trust not for freedom to the Franks — They have a king who buys and sells : In native swords and native ranks, The only hope of courage dwells ; But Turkish force and Latin fraud Would break your shield, however broad. !$•' Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! Our virgins dance beneath the shade...
الصفحة 83 - Her court was pure ; her life serene ; God gave her peace ; her land reposed ; A thousand claims to reverence closed In her as Mother, Wife and Queen ; 142 The Epic 143 " And statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons, when to take Occasion by the hand, and make The bounds of freedom wider yet...
الصفحة 67 - Must we but blush ? — Our fathers bled. Earth ! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead ! Of the three hundred grant but three To make a new Thermopylae ! What, silent still ? and silent all ? Ah ! no : the voices of the dead Sound like a distant torrent's fall, And answer, "Let one living head, But one, arise— we come, we come ! " 'Tis but the living who are dumb.