PoemsT. Cadell, 1781 - 118 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 1
... Stranger of the grove ! HALL Thou Meffenger of Spring ! Now Heaven repairs thy rural feat , And woods thy welcome fing . What time the daify decks the green , Thy certain voice we hear ; Haft thou a star to guide thy path , Or mark the ...
... Stranger of the grove ! HALL Thou Meffenger of Spring ! Now Heaven repairs thy rural feat , And woods thy welcome fing . What time the daify decks the green , Thy certain voice we hear ; Haft thou a star to guide thy path , Or mark the ...
الصفحة 58
... stranger to his feast , The beggar to his door . But , ah ! what mortal knows the hour Of Fate ? A hand unfeen Upon the curtain ever rests , And fudden fhifts the scene . Arthur was furety for his friend , Who fled to foreign climes ...
... stranger to his feast , The beggar to his door . But , ah ! what mortal knows the hour Of Fate ? A hand unfeen Upon the curtain ever rests , And fudden fhifts the scene . Arthur was furety for his friend , Who fled to foreign climes ...
الصفحة 59
... stranger o'er the fields He lately call'd his own . The blaft of Winter whiftled loud And fhrill thro ' the void hall ; And heavy on his hoary locks The fhower of night did fall . Clafp'd in his daughter's trembling hand , He journey'd ...
... stranger o'er the fields He lately call'd his own . The blaft of Winter whiftled loud And fhrill thro ' the void hall ; And heavy on his hoary locks The fhower of night did fall . Clafp'd in his daughter's trembling hand , He journey'd ...
الصفحة 61
... where to lay the head , " Amid the world fo wide ! " A stranger , wandering thro ' the wood , Beheld the hapless Pair ; Long did he look in filence fad , Then fhriek'd as in defpair . He He ran , and lowly at the feet Of his POEM S. 61.
... where to lay the head , " Amid the world fo wide ! " A stranger , wandering thro ' the wood , Beheld the hapless Pair ; Long did he look in filence fad , Then fhriek'd as in defpair . He He ran , and lowly at the feet Of his POEM S. 61.
الصفحة 71
... received a guest , The Stranger told his tender tale : " I come from foreign climes ; " From countries red with Indian blood , And ftain'd with Chriftian crimes . F 4 " O may " O may Britannia never hear " What these fad POEMS . 71.
... received a guest , The Stranger told his tender tale : " I come from foreign climes ; " From countries red with Indian blood , And ftain'd with Chriftian crimes . F 4 " O may " O may Britannia never hear " What these fad POEMS . 71.
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
accent afcend arms beam beauty Behold bleft bloom bofom bowers ceaſe charm climes cloſe crown'd dark darkneſs defcends Defpair divine e'er earth everlaſting eyes facred fair Fancy father fcenes fhade fhall fhine fhore figh filence fing fkies fleep flow flowers fmile fond foon foreft forfake forrow fought foul friendſhip ftill ftrain ftranger fudden fweet green grove gueſt hall hand HARRIET hear heart Heaven heavenly hill hour houſe huſband HYMN iſle laſt light lonely Lord lover Maſter morning mufic Nature's ne'er never night o'er paſt peace Philomela praiſe promiſed raiſe rife robe rofe roſe round rove ſcene ſhall ſkies ſky ſmiled ſpread Spring ſtars ſtep ſtill ſtream tears tender thee theſe Thou art thro tomb unfeen unfold Vale Venus vernal vifion Virgin voice voice of Spring walk wandering waſte weary weep wept whiſper Whoſe wild wind wood Yarrow youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 4 - I'd fly with thee! We'd make, with joyful wing, Our annual visit o'er the globe, Companions of the Spring. THE BRAES OF YARROW "Thy braes were bonny, Yarrow stream! When first on them I met my lover; Thy braes how dreary, Yarrow stream! When now thy waves his body cover! For ever now, O Yarrow stream! Thou art to me a stream of sorrow; For never on thy banks shall I Behold my love, the flower of Yarrow. "He promised me a milk-white steed, To bear me to his father's bowers; He promised me a little...
الصفحة 2 - The schoolboy, wandering through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts, the new voice of spring to hear, And imitates thy lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom, Thou fliest thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another spring to hail. Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year ! O, could I fly, I'd fly with thee ! We'd make, with joyful wing, Our annual visit o'er the globe, Companions of the spring.
الصفحة 95 - Determined are the days that fly Successive o'er thy head ; The number'd hour is on the wing, That lays thee with the dead.
الصفحة 5 - His mother from the window look'd, With all the longing of a mother; His little sister weeping walk'd The greenwood path to meet her brother : They sought him east, they sought him west, They sought him all the Forest thorough; They only saw the cloud of night, They only heard the roar of Yarrow.
الصفحة 104 - In her right hand she holds to view A length of happy years ; And in her left the prize of fame, And honour bright appears.
الصفحة 117 - Though now ascended up on high, He bends on earth a brother's eye ; Partaker of the human name, He knows the frailty of our frame.
الصفحة 49 - Intrusion marr'd the tender hour, A demon started in the bower ; If, like the past, the future run, And my dark day is but begun, What clouds may hang above my head ? What tears may I have yet to shed...
الصفحة 9 - Affection sad will drop a tear. How oft does Sorrow bend the head, Before we dwell among the dead ! Scarce in the years of manly prime I've often wept the wrecks of time. What tragic tears bedew the eye ! What deaths we suffer ere we die ! Our broken friendships we deplore, And loves of youth that are no more ! No after-friendship e'er can raise Th' endearments of our early days ; And ne'er the heart such fondness prove, As when it first began to love.
الصفحة 7 - I'll seek thy body in the stream, And then with thee I'll sleep in Yarrow. — The tear did never leave her cheek, No other youth became her marrow ; She found his body in the stream, And now with him she sleeps in Yarrow.
الصفحة 16 - We love th' alluring line of grace, That leads the eye a wanton chace, And lets the fancy rove ; The walk of Beauty ever bends, And ftill begins, but never ends, The labyrinth of love.