Readings in poetry: a selection from the best English poets, from Spenser to the present times; and specimens of several American poetsJ.W. Parker, 1843 - Всего страниц: 448 |
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Стр. 22
... long syllable : Now my weary lids I close ; Leave me , leave me to repose . 6. The sixth form of English Trochaic verse consists of four Trochees : Saw ye not the lightning flashing , Heard ye not 22 ENGLISH VERSIFICATION .
... long syllable : Now my weary lids I close ; Leave me , leave me to repose . 6. The sixth form of English Trochaic verse consists of four Trochees : Saw ye not the lightning flashing , Heard ye not 22 ENGLISH VERSIFICATION .
Стр. 23
Readings. Saw ye not the lightning flashing , Heard ye not the thunder crashing ? 7. The seventh Trochaic form , which is rarely used , is composed of four Trochees and a long syllable : Thus he spoke in sorrow and despair . 8. The ...
Readings. Saw ye not the lightning flashing , Heard ye not the thunder crashing ? 7. The seventh Trochaic form , which is rarely used , is composed of four Trochees and a long syllable : Thus he spoke in sorrow and despair . 8. The ...
Стр. 30
... heard - nor a funeral note , As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried . We buried him darkly , at dead of night , 30 ON THE DIFFERENT The Falls of the ...
... heard - nor a funeral note , As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried . We buried him darkly , at dead of night , 30 ON THE DIFFERENT The Falls of the ...
Стр. 31
... heard the distant and random gun , That the foe was sullenly firing . Slowly and sadly we laid him down , From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line - we raised not a stone , But left him alone in his glory . The ...
... heard the distant and random gun , That the foe was sullenly firing . Slowly and sadly we laid him down , From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line - we raised not a stone , But left him alone in his glory . The ...
Стр. 58
... heard My mother Circe " with the Sirens 22 three , Amidst the flowery - kirtled Naiades , Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs ; Who , as they sung , would take the prisoned soul , And lap it in Elysium ; Scylla's wept , And ...
... heard My mother Circe " with the Sirens 22 three , Amidst the flowery - kirtled Naiades , Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs ; Who , as they sung , would take the prisoned soul , And lap it in Elysium ; Scylla's wept , And ...
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Readings in Poetry: A Selection From the Best English Poets, From Spenser to ... Readings Недоступно для просмотра - 2023 |
Readings in Poetry: A Selection from the Best English Poets, from Spenser to ... Readings Недоступно для просмотра - 2016 |
Readings in Poetry: A Selection from the Best English Poets, from Spenser to ... Readings Недоступно для просмотра - 2016 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Absalom and Achitophel beams beauty behold beneath bosom breast breath breeze bright Castle of Indolence charms clouds cried dæmon dark death deep delight dread dream E'en earth eternal fair falchion fame fear fire flame flood flowers gaze glory grace grave Greece hand hath heard heart heaven hills holy hope hopes and fears hour Idlesse Italy Julius Cæsar king labour light live lonely look Lord lyre mighty mind morn mortal mountain murmuring Muse Nature's night northern wars o'er once Palestine Philip Neri poem poet praise pride rill rise Rodmond roll round sacred seraph shade shine sigh silent skies sleep smile song soul sound spirit stars storm stream sweet swell tears tempest thee thine thou thought throne thunder toil trembling Trochees Twas vale voice wandering wave ween wild wind wings youth
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Стр. 92 - Hark! they whisper; angels say, Sister spirit, come away. What is this absorbs me quite ? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath ? Tell me, my soul, can this be death ? The world recedes; it disappears!
Стр. 197 - Thou too; hoar Mount! with thy sky-pointing peaks, Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard, Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene Into the depth of clouds, that veil thy breast — Thou too again, stupendous Mountain! thou That as I raise my head, awhile bowed...
Стр. 36 - Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death? Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre...
Стр. 147 - This pencil take (she said) whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year ; Thine too these golden keys, immortal Boy ! This can unlock the gates of Joy, Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic Tears.
Стр. 61 - In that bright eminence, and with his good Upbraided none; nor was his service hard. What could be less than to afford him praise, The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks, How due! yet all his good...
Стр. 354 - And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home ; When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still, And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill, The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.
Стр. 196 - Awake, my soul ! not only passive praise Thou owest ! not alone these swelling tears, Mute thanks and secret ecstasy ! Awake, Voice of sweet song ! Awake, my Heart, awake ! Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my Hymn.
Стр. 36 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care : No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How...
Стр. 52 - TO BLOSSOMS FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast ? Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here awhile, To blush and gently smile, And go at last.
Стр. 38 - THE EPITAPH Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown; Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth And melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere; Heaven did a recompense as largely send : He gave to misery (all he had) a tear, He gain'd from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend.