The Household Book of PoetryCharles Anderson Dana D. Appleton, 1882 - 862 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 3
... breathing , vernal air , That with kind warmth doth repair Winter's ruins ; from whose breast All the gums and ... breath threaten us , Thou canst stroke great Æolus , And from him the grace obtain , To bind him in an iron chain ...
... breathing , vernal air , That with kind warmth doth repair Winter's ruins ; from whose breast All the gums and ... breath threaten us , Thou canst stroke great Æolus , And from him the grace obtain , To bind him in an iron chain ...
الصفحة 14
... breath ; Other joys Are but toys , And to be lamented . JOHN CHALKHILL . berses in Praise of Angling . QUIVERING fears , heart - tearing cares , Anxious sighs , untimely tears , Fly , fly to courts , Fly to fond worldlings ' sports ...
... breath ; Other joys Are but toys , And to be lamented . JOHN CHALKHILL . berses in Praise of Angling . QUIVERING fears , heart - tearing cares , Anxious sighs , untimely tears , Fly , fly to courts , Fly to fond worldlings ' sports ...
الصفحة 34
... breath of distant fields upon my brow Blows through that open door The sound of wind - borne bells , more sweet and low , And sadder than of yore . It comes afar , from that beloved place , And that beloved hour , When life hung ...
... breath of distant fields upon my brow Blows through that open door The sound of wind - borne bells , more sweet and low , And sadder than of yore . It comes afar , from that beloved place , And that beloved hour , When life hung ...
الصفحة 43
... breath Around , and day lies still as death . The busy noise of man and brute Is on a sudden lost and mute ; Even the brook that leaps along , Seems weary of its bubbling song , And , so soft its waters creep , Tired silence sinks in ...
... breath Around , and day lies still as death . The busy noise of man and brute Is on a sudden lost and mute ; Even the brook that leaps along , Seems weary of its bubbling song , And , so soft its waters creep , Tired silence sinks in ...
الصفحة 56
... breath from the chambers of death , While the lifeless fount gushes under the tree . " The skies grow dark , and they glare with red ; The tree shakes off its spicy bloom ; The waves of the fount in a black pool spread ; And in thunder ...
... breath from the chambers of death , While the lifeless fount gushes under the tree . " The skies grow dark , and they glare with red ; The tree shakes off its spicy bloom ; The waves of the fount in a black pool spread ; And in thunder ...
المحتوى
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طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
ALFRED TENNYSON BARRY CORNWALL beauty bells beneath Binnorie bird blessed bonnie breast breath bright brow cloud dark dead dear death deep dost doth dream earth eyes fair fear flowers frae glory golden grace grave green hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven heir of Linne HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW hill king kiss lady land light lips live look Lord milldams moon morning ne'er never night o'er PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY praise ROBERT BURNS ROBERT HERRICK rose round shade shine shore sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars stream summer sweet tears tell thee thine things THOMAS HOOD thou art thought tree Twas unto voice waves weary weep wild WILLIAM MOTHERWELL WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind wings woods young Beichan youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 665 - Hear the sledges with the bells, Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells.' How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars, that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells — From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
الصفحة 779 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet — the dead are there: And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
الصفحة 417 - 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 114 - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon ; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon : Sleep, my little one, sleep, my...
الصفحة 742 - ON HIS BLINDNESS 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 614 - IN Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round : And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
الصفحة 30 - I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but...
الصفحة 666 - 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, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone They are neither man nor woman They are neither brute nor human They are Ghouls: And their king it is who tolls; And he rolls, rolls, rolls,...
الصفحة 785 - E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn; 'There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic...
الصفحة 676 - Had half impair'd the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o'er her face ; Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!