The frequented village, and other poemsauthor, not published, 1844 - 207 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 49
... hast thou ? Thine arm may yet thy sceptre be , Thine industry a crown ; An honest name the proudest style On which thy God looks down . Look up my child , -nay , frown not so ; Altho ' no prelate's arm Encircled thy young head , to ...
... hast thou ? Thine arm may yet thy sceptre be , Thine industry a crown ; An honest name the proudest style On which thy God looks down . Look up my child , -nay , frown not so ; Altho ' no prelate's arm Encircled thy young head , to ...
الصفحة 86
... Farewell ! No more shall thy eagle pinion Flap to the the rude north blast ; — The tide thou hast rolled on - thy servile minion- Its shroud hath o'er thee cast . My Mother's Grave . ' Tis but a modest village 86 REVERIES.
... Farewell ! No more shall thy eagle pinion Flap to the the rude north blast ; — The tide thou hast rolled on - thy servile minion- Its shroud hath o'er thee cast . My Mother's Grave . ' Tis but a modest village 86 REVERIES.
الصفحة 107
... hast exchanged thy maiden gladness For a tear and for a sigh ; But those that force thee thus With thy early love to part , May they never feel the agony That rends a broken heart . We cannot , as in days gone by , Our vows of passion ...
... hast exchanged thy maiden gladness For a tear and for a sigh ; But those that force thee thus With thy early love to part , May they never feel the agony That rends a broken heart . We cannot , as in days gone by , Our vows of passion ...
الصفحة 117
... a sleepless bed ? If thou canst then restrain the rebel tear , Breathe thy vow firmly , -thou hast uought to fear . Still pledge it not in thoughtless apathy ; The fate IN RHYME . 117 To my Wife, on the morning of our Wedding.
... a sleepless bed ? If thou canst then restrain the rebel tear , Breathe thy vow firmly , -thou hast uought to fear . Still pledge it not in thoughtless apathy ; The fate IN RHYME . 117 To my Wife, on the morning of our Wedding.
الصفحة 125
... the treasury there ? ' Tis gloomy to think thou hast left us behind thee , Thy works to admire and thy loss to deplore ; Yet ' tis joyous to know that in heaven we IN RHYME . 125 On seeing a Bust of the late Bishop of Ferns.
... the treasury there ? ' Tis gloomy to think thou hast left us behind thee , Thy works to admire and thy loss to deplore ; Yet ' tis joyous to know that in heaven we IN RHYME . 125 On seeing a Bust of the late Bishop of Ferns.
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
The Frequented Village, and Other Poems <span dir=ltr>William Leslie Fletcher</span> لا تتوفر معاينة - 2016 |
The Frequented Village, and Other Poems <span dir=ltr>William Leslie Fletcher</span> لا تتوفر معاينة - 2009 |
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
ancient Rome Anguish art thou beam beauty Beneath blest blood bloom bosom breast breath bright charms cheek cried Curlieu dare dark dead death doth dream Dublin earth Erin's falchion father feel flower friends glen grave Gunhilda hand happy hast hath hear heart Heaven Herodotus honour hour king King Arthur kiss knew land life's look merry mighty mirth monarch morn Morogh mother Mount Kennedy mountain mountain goat natal day Nature's ne'er neath never night North Strand nought o'er OLORUS pain peace Picts prayer pride prince Promised Home proud Rathdrum reign rills rose round Saxon scarce scorned sigh Sir Tristram Slander sleep smile song soul stream Summer sweet tears thee thine thou art thought thro Thucydides thy brow Twas vale verse village Vortigern weep Western Isle Wicklow wild wish young youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 103 - Yet Michael the archangel, when contending with the devil he disputed about the body of Moses, durst not bring against him a railing accusation, but said, The Lord rebuke thee.
الصفحة 194 - falls into the yellow Leaf,' and Imagination droops her pinion, And the sad truth which hovers o'er my desk Turns what was once romantic to burlesque.
الصفحة 40 - But words are things, and a small drop of ink . , Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think...
الصفحة 89 - When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray ; What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom — is to die.
الصفحة 40 - Of others' feeling; but they are such liars, And take all colours— like the hands of dyers. But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think; Tis strange, the shortest letter which man uses Instead of speech, may form a lasting link Of ages; to what straits old Time reduces...
الصفحة 40 - Tis strange, the shortest letter which man uses Instead of speech, may form a lasting link Of ages ; to what straits old Time reduces Frail man, when paper — even a rag like this, Survives himself, his tomb, and all that's his.
الصفحة 161 - Alengon ordering the Genoese archers to charge; but they were so fatigued with their march, that they cried out for a little rest before they should engage. The Count...
الصفحة 41 - Its inequalities, its frankness, its indignations, its ebbs and flows — are all the reverse of craft ; and what but craft will the world be ruled by — Johnson. Oh, were I smiled on by bounteous Heaven, And all my fond heart's wishes givenj I'd live 'neath the Muses...