The Poetical Common-place Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of Standard and Fugitive Poetry, Including a Few Translations Hitherto UnpublishedJohn Anderson, 1822 - Всего страниц: 388 |
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Стр. 3
... meet in heaven ! - That voice can quiet passion's mood ; Can humble merit raise on high ; And from the wise , and from the good , It breathes of immortality ! There is a lip , there is an eye , Where most I love to see it shine , To ...
... meet in heaven ! - That voice can quiet passion's mood ; Can humble merit raise on high ; And from the wise , and from the good , It breathes of immortality ! There is a lip , there is an eye , Where most I love to see it shine , To ...
Стр. 14
... meet the orient gleam , Reflects the warmly - strengthening beam It seems to lave . ' Tis when the restless child of sorrow , Watching the wish'd - for rising morrow , His couch foregoes , And seeks ' midst scenes so sweet , so mild ...
... meet the orient gleam , Reflects the warmly - strengthening beam It seems to lave . ' Tis when the restless child of sorrow , Watching the wish'd - for rising morrow , His couch foregoes , And seeks ' midst scenes so sweet , so mild ...
Стр. 17
... meet , Whilst yet untold young passion's glow . There is a sigh - short , deep , and strong , That on the lip of rapture dies ; It floats mild evening's shade along , When meet the fond consenting eyes . There is a sigh - that speaks ...
... meet , Whilst yet untold young passion's glow . There is a sigh - short , deep , and strong , That on the lip of rapture dies ; It floats mild evening's shade along , When meet the fond consenting eyes . There is a sigh - that speaks ...
Стр. 35
... Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood , Land of the mountain and the flood , Land of my sires ! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band That knits me to thy rugged strand ! Still as I view each well ...
... Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood , Land of the mountain and the flood , Land of my sires ! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band That knits me to thy rugged strand ! Still as I view each well ...
Стр. 54
... meet ! The snow shall be their winding - sheet , And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre ! LINES ADDRESSED TO A LADY . Written after a Battle . ANONYMOUS . Он , Lady ! breathe no sigh for those , And let no tear ...
... meet ! The snow shall be their winding - sheet , And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre ! LINES ADDRESSED TO A LADY . Written after a Battle . ANONYMOUS . Он , Lady ! breathe no sigh for those , And let no tear ...
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The Poetical Commonplace Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of ... C. W. C. Недоступно для просмотра - 2009 |
The Poetical Commonplace Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of ... C. W. C. Недоступно для просмотра - 2009 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
admiring bands ANONYMOUS art thou beam beauty beneath billows black crows blast blest bliss bloom bosom bower breast breath breeze bright charm cheek cherub clouds cold dark dark wave dead dear death delight dream earth ev'ning ev'ry fair fate Fingal flowers fond Gelert gleam gloom glory glow grave green grief grove hail hast hath hear heart Heav'n HENRY KIRKE WHITE hill hour kiss of Morn light lips lonely LORD BYRON lov'd lyre maid moon morn mountain mourn Muse ne'er night o'er pale rapture rill rose round scene seem'd shade sigh silent sleep slumber smile soft song sorrow soul sound star Star of Bethlehem storm strain stream summer sweet swell tear tell tempest thee thine thou thought tomb tree trembling Twas vale voice wake wander wave weep wild wind wing woods youth
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Стр. 53 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Стр. 187 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Стр. 270 - When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulder flung, Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known...
Стр. 247 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee...
Стр. 235 - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out...
Стр. 304 - Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.
Стр. 189 - If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flatt'ry sooth the dull cold ear of Death...
Стр. 229 - Can I forget the dismal night, that gave My soul's best part for ever to the grave! How silent did his old companions tread, By midnight lamps, the mansions of the dead, Through breathing statues, then unheeded things, Through rows of warriors, and through walks of kings!
Стр. 85 - Erin, my country ! though sad and forsaken, In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore ; But, alas ! in a far foreign land I awaken, And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more ! Oh cruel fate ! wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace — where no perils can chase me?
Стр. 4 - Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.