With the Poets: A Selection of English PoetryFunk & Wagnalls, 1883 - 290 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 44
... . The city cast Her people out upon her ; and Antony , Enthroned in the market - place , did sit alone , Whistling to the air ; which , but for vacancy , Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too , And made 44 SIXTEENTH CENTURY .
... . The city cast Her people out upon her ; and Antony , Enthroned in the market - place , did sit alone , Whistling to the air ; which , but for vacancy , Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too , And made 44 SIXTEENTH CENTURY .
الصفحة 45
A Selection of English Poetry Frederic William Farrar. Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too , And made a gap in nature . Antony and Cleopatra , Act ii . Sc . 2 . CUPID . Oberon . My gentle Puck , come hither . Thou remember'st Since once I ...
A Selection of English Poetry Frederic William Farrar. Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too , And made a gap in nature . Antony and Cleopatra , Act ii . Sc . 2 . CUPID . Oberon . My gentle Puck , come hither . Thou remember'st Since once I ...
الصفحة 47
... gone , Save that , to die , I leave my love alone . DIRGE . FEAR no more the heat o ' the sun , Nor the furious winter's rages ; Thou thy worldly task hast done , Home art gone , and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads and girls all must , As ...
... gone , Save that , to die , I leave my love alone . DIRGE . FEAR no more the heat o ' the sun , Nor the furious winter's rages ; Thou thy worldly task hast done , Home art gone , and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads and girls all must , As ...
الصفحة 53
... gone , Armour on armour shone , Drum now to drum did groan , To hear was wonder ; That with the cries they make , The very earth did shake , Trumpet to trumpet spake , Thunder to thunder . Well it thine age became , O noble Erpingham ...
... gone , Armour on armour shone , Drum now to drum did groan , To hear was wonder ; That with the cries they make , The very earth did shake , Trumpet to trumpet spake , Thunder to thunder . Well it thine age became , O noble Erpingham ...
الصفحة 54
... gone : Violets plucked , the sweetest rain Makes not fresh nor grow again ; Trim thy locks , look cheerfully ; Fate's hidden ends eyes cannot see ; Joys as winged dreams fly fast , Why should sadness longer last ? Grief is but a wound ...
... gone : Violets plucked , the sweetest rain Makes not fresh nor grow again ; Trim thy locks , look cheerfully ; Fate's hidden ends eyes cannot see ; Joys as winged dreams fly fast , Why should sadness longer last ? Grief is but a wound ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
angels Barum beauty beneath blessed blest bonnie Born breast breath bright brow busk Christmas Evans clouds County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight Died divine doth dream earth English poetry eternal eyes face fair fame fate fear fire flowers friends George Eliot glory golden gone grace GRANT ALLEN grave hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill hope hour Kilmeny king land light live Lochinvar look Lord Lycidas mind morning mourn ne'er never night o'er Paradise Lost poets praise pride rest Roncesvalles rose round Samian wine says shade shine shore sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit STANDARD LIBRARY stars storm sweet tears thee thine Thomas Armitage thought truth Twas vale voice wave weep wild William Shakespeare winds wings wonder writes Nov Yarrow York young youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 41 - It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes; 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice.
الصفحة 229 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: — Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
الصفحة 213 - Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness: And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts; and choking sighs, Which ne'er might be repeated: who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise!
الصفحة 223 - Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord.
الصفحة 115 - How sleep the brave who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! ODE TO MERCY.
الصفحة 187 - 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 46 - And moan the expense of many a vanished sight: Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.
الصفحة 44 - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water ; the poop was beaten gold, Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them, the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.
الصفحة 42 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines...
الصفحة 70 - 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?