Studies in Poetry: Embracing Notices of the Lives and Writings of the Best Poets in the English Language, a Copious Selection of Elegant Extracts, a Short Analysis of Hebrew Poetry, and Translations from the Sacred Poets: Designed to Illustrate the Principles of Rhetoric, and Teach Their Application to Poetry
Carter and Hendee, 1830 - 480 من الصفحات
ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
لم نعثر على أي مراجعات في الأماكن المعتادة.
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
STUDIES IN POETRY EMBRACING NO
<span dir=ltr>George Barrell 1807-1890 Cheever</span>
لا تتوفر معاينة - 2016
appear beauty beneath Born breast breath bright character charm clouds dark dead dear death deep delight dream earth face fair fall fancy father fear feel fields fire flowers give grave green hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill holy hope hour Jehovah land leaves light live lonely look Lord mind moral morn mountains nature never night o'er once pass peace pleasure poet poetry poor praise pure rest rise rock round scene seen shade side silent sing sleep smile song soon soul sound spirit spread spring stand stream sweet tears tender thee things thou thought till tree turn vale voice wandering waters wave wild wind wing woods youth
الصفحة 33 - It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes : 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown ; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice.
الصفحة 17 - 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 376 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear ; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
الصفحة 28 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. Vain pomp, and glory of this world, I hate ye ; I feel my heart new open'd : O, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes...
الصفحة 65 - 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.
الصفحة 375 - What thou art we know not: what is most like thee? From rainbow clouds there flow not drops so bright to see, as from thy presence showers a rain of melody.
الصفحة 71 - WHEN I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he, returning, chide, "Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?
الصفحة 17 - Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon...
الصفحة 166 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay : Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade ; A breath can make them as a breath has made ; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed, can never be supplied.
الصفحة 138 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his fav'rite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn:' THE EPITAPH Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.