Dramatic Scenes, Sonnets, and Other PoemsG.B. Whittaker, 1827 - 392 من الصفحات |
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Albert Alcestis Alice Amelia Angelo ANTIGONE Art thou Arthur beauty Bertha blessing bower breath bride bright cheek Claudia Colantonio Conrade Constance Countess courser Cunigunda D'Osma dear dearest Didst thou Dost thou dream Duchess Editha Eleanor Ernest Exit eyes fair fallow deer father fawn fear FIESCO Fitz-Alwyn flowers fond gentle GLENTHAM grace grief hand happy Hast thou hath hear heart Heaven Helen Henry hour innocent Isabel Julia Lady Laura Leopold light Lindorf live Look Lord Glen Louisa Mabel Madam maid maiden Mantua Margaret Maurice Mordaunt mother ne'er Neville noble o'er Oh father Orlando pale playmate poor proud Rosamond round scarce scene Sir Edward smile song soul speak steed Strew sweet Talbot tale tears tell thee Theodore thine Thou art thou hast Thuringia trembling Twas Twill voice WATLINGTON Whilst wild William WILLIAM CHAMBERLAYNE yonder young youth Zingaro
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 358 - Then to come in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good morrow, Through the Sweet-Briar, or the Vine, Or the twisted Eglantine...
الصفحة 297 - Life's clouds like setting suns, with pleasure filled And saintly joy, such as thy mind beseems, — Thy mind where never stormy passion gleams, Where their soft nest the dove-like virtues build And calmest thoughts, like violets distilled, Their fragrance mingle with bright wisdom's beams.
الصفحة 318 - And mild the glowworm's light, And soft the breeze that sweeps the flower With pearly dew-drops bright. I love to loiter on the hill, And catch each trembling ray; — Fair as they are, they mind me still Of fairer things than they. What is the breath of closing flowers But Feeling's gentlest sigh? What are the dew-drops' crystal showers But tears from Pity's eye ? What are the glowworms by the rill But Fancy's flashes gay?
الصفحة 86 - The butterfly flits round the flowering tree ; And the cowslip and blue-bell are bent by the bee. All the creatures that dwell in the forest are gay — And why should not I be as merry as they ?
الصفحة 305 - In this fair scene — this quaintly floated bower; These sloping banks, with tree, and shrub, and flower Bedecked ; and these pure waters, where the sky In its deep blueness shines so peacefully — Shines all unbroken, save with sudden light When some proud...
الصفحة 89 - Mid the deep blue sky and the cloudless white ; The bright wave is tossing its foam on high, And the summer breezes go lightly by ; The air and the water dance, glitter, and play — And why should not I be as merry as they ? The linnet is singing the wild wood through ; The fawn's bounding footstep skims over the dew; The butterfly flits round the flower-tree ; And the cowslip and blue-bell are bent by the bee...
الصفحة 103 - Oh miserably have my days crept on Since thou did'st leave me ! Very desolate Is that proud splendid home ! no cheerful meals ; No evening music; and no morning rides Of charity or pleasure. Thy trim walks Are overgrown ; and the gay pretty room Which thou didst love so well, is vacant now ; Vacant and desolate as my sick heart. Amelia, when thou saw'st me last, my hair Was brown as thine. Look on it now, Amelia. Mau. My lord, this grief will kill her. See she writhes Upon the floor. Lord M. I <
الصفحة 368 - On this subject we may justly use the lines of Miss Mitford, who says : — 'Twere hard to sing thy varying charm, Thou cottage, mansion, village, farm, Thou beautiful epitome Of all that useful is and rare, Where comfort sits with smiling air, And laughing hospitality.
الصفحة 99 - M. I will do more. Give me that boy, And he shall be my heir. Give me that boy. Am. My boy ! give up my boy ! Lord M. Why he must be , A burthen. Ye are poor. Am. A burthen ! William ! My own dear William ! Lord M. Miserably poor Ye are ; deny it not. Mau. We earn our bread By honest labour. Am. And...
الصفحة 91 - And will it not be sweet To see that lovely boy, blushing all over, His fair brow reddening, and his smiling eyes Filling with tears, his scarlet lips far ruddier Than the red berries, stammering and forgetting The little pretty speech that he hath conned, But speaking in warm kisses ? Will it not Be sweet to see my precious William give The very first thing he can call his own To him who gives him all ? My dearest husband, Betray me not. Pretend an ignorance ; And wonder why that cream and bread...