Gleanings from the English poets, Chaucer to Tennyson, with biogr. notices of the authors [by R. Inglis].1862 |
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الصفحة xiii
... sweet harp of Judah , " Address to Contemplation , . JOHN WILSON , 1785-1854 . The Shipwreck , A Sleeping Child , WILLIAM TENNANT , 1785-1848 . From " Anster Fair , " MRS SOUTHEY , 1787-1854 . Mariner's Hymn , LORD BYRON , 1788-1824 ...
... sweet harp of Judah , " Address to Contemplation , . JOHN WILSON , 1785-1854 . The Shipwreck , A Sleeping Child , WILLIAM TENNANT , 1785-1848 . From " Anster Fair , " MRS SOUTHEY , 1787-1854 . Mariner's Hymn , LORD BYRON , 1788-1824 ...
الصفحة 11
... sweet ! are ye a worldly creature , Or heavenly thing in likeness of nature ? ' Or are ye god Cupidis own princess , And comin are to loose me out of band ? Or are ye very Nature the goddess , That have depainted with your heavenly hand ...
... sweet ! are ye a worldly creature , Or heavenly thing in likeness of nature ? ' Or are ye god Cupidis own princess , And comin are to loose me out of band ? Or are ye very Nature the goddess , That have depainted with your heavenly hand ...
الصفحة 11
... sweet ! are ye a worldly creature , Or heavenly thing in likeness of nature ? ' Or are ye god Cupidis own princess , And comin are to loose me out of band ? Or are ye very Nature the goddess , That have depainted with your heavenly hand ...
... sweet ! are ye a worldly creature , Or heavenly thing in likeness of nature ? ' Or are ye god Cupidis own princess , And comin are to loose me out of band ? Or are ye very Nature the goddess , That have depainted with your heavenly hand ...
الصفحة 13
... sweet Willie Alane , At Christ's Kirk of the Green that day . Blind Harry . death About 1450 . Of this Scottish minstrel poet little is known , but that he was blind from his earliest years , and that he gained his living by reciting ...
... sweet Willie Alane , At Christ's Kirk of the Green that day . Blind Harry . death About 1450 . Of this Scottish minstrel poet little is known , but that he was blind from his earliest years , and that he gained his living by reciting ...
الصفحة 30
... sweet place returns a taste full sour ! The large green courts where we were wont to hove , With eyes cast up into the Maiden tower , And easy sighs , such as folk draw in love . The stately seats , the ladies bright of hue ; The dances ...
... sweet place returns a taste full sour ! The large green courts where we were wont to hove , With eyes cast up into the Maiden tower , And easy sighs , such as folk draw in love . The stately seats , the ladies bright of hue ; The dances ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
art thou bawbee beauty beneath blest Born Braes breast breath bright Busk clouds Cockpen cried dark dead dear death deep delight Died doth dread earth Edinburgh Review eternal eyes fair falcon crest fame father fear flowers frae friends gazed glory grace grave green happy harp hast hath hear heart heaven hill hour HYMN Kilmeny land light live Lochaber look Lord maun mind morning mountains Nature's ne'er never night nymph o'er Paradise Lost peace pleasure poems poet poetry praise pride published rest rise Robert Southey Robin Gray rose round Rule Britannia Scotland Scottish shade shine sigh silent sing skies sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit stars stream sweet tears tempest thee thine thou art thought trembling Twas vale voice wandering wave weary weep wild wind wings Yarrow youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 248 - 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 destroy'd, can never be supplied.
الصفحة 425 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes By the deep Sea, and music in its roar : I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.
الصفحة 48 - ALL the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players : They have their exits and their entrances ; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
الصفحة 226 - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
الصفحة 46 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice...
الصفحة 248 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.
الصفحة 77 - When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow; Then boast no more your mighty deeds! Upon Death's purple altar now See where the victor-victim bleeds. Your heads must come To the cold tomb: Only the actions of the just Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.
الصفحة 49 - Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
الصفحة 54 - I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee!
الصفحة 229 - THE EPITAPH. Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth a Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown : fair Science...