Roadside Poems for Summer TravellersLucy Larcom J. R. Osgood, 1876 - Всего страниц: 263 |
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Стр. 69
... wild flowers thou gatherest Shall glow yet deeper near thine eyes . Come , and when , mid the calm profound , I turn , those gentle eyes to seek , They , like the lovely landscape round , Of innocence and peace shall speak . Rest here ...
... wild flowers thou gatherest Shall glow yet deeper near thine eyes . Come , and when , mid the calm profound , I turn , those gentle eyes to seek , They , like the lovely landscape round , Of innocence and peace shall speak . Rest here ...
Стр. 74
... he sat him down in a lonely place , And chanted a melody loud and sweet , That made the wild - swan pause in her cloud , And the lark drop down at his feet . The swallow stopt as he hunted the bee , The 74 ROADSIDE POEMS .
... he sat him down in a lonely place , And chanted a melody loud and sweet , That made the wild - swan pause in her cloud , And the lark drop down at his feet . The swallow stopt as he hunted the bee , The 74 ROADSIDE POEMS .
Стр. 75
... wild - hawk stood with the down on his beak , And stared , with his foot on the prey , And the nightingale thought , " I have sung many songs , But never a one so gay , For he sings of what the world will be When the years have died ...
... wild - hawk stood with the down on his beak , And stared , with his foot on the prey , And the nightingale thought , " I have sung many songs , But never a one so gay , For he sings of what the world will be When the years have died ...
Стр. 79
... wild falcons make their lordly nest On high . The spirit of the solitude Fell solemnly upon my infant breast , Though then I prayed not ; but deep thoughts have pressed Into my being since it breathed that air , Nor could I now one ...
... wild falcons make their lordly nest On high . The spirit of the solitude Fell solemnly upon my infant breast , Though then I prayed not ; but deep thoughts have pressed Into my being since it breathed that air , Nor could I now one ...
Стр. 85
... branches overhead , Where the wild wood - strawberries cluster , And the softest moss is spread , I met to - day with a fairy , And I followed her where she led . Some magical words she uttered , I alone could understand IN THE WOOD . 85.
... branches overhead , Where the wild wood - strawberries cluster , And the softest moss is spread , I met to - day with a fairy , And I followed her where she led . Some magical words she uttered , I alone could understand IN THE WOOD . 85.
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
amid Apennine azure Bayard Taylor beauty beneath bird Blaavin bless blue bosom boughs bower breath bright brook brooklet brow calm cliffs climb clouds crags Cromer dark deep dream earth earthquake storm echoes eyes fair feet flowers forests forever Glaramara gleams glory gold golden golden air gorses grand horizon gray green hath hear heart heaven height Highlands hills Jean Ingelow lake land light live LOCH KATRINE lonely look Lucy Larcom mighty mist Mont Blanc morning mountain murmuring Naiad never night o'er ocean peak pines purple rain rills river rocks round shade shadows shine silent silver sing Skiddaw sleep smile snow soft song soul sound spirit splendor stars steep storm streams summer summit sweet T. B. Aldrich thee thine things thou thought thunder torrent trees vale valley voice wandering waters waves wild wind woods Wordsworth
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Стр. 157 - The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light shakes across the lakes, And the •wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Стр. 172 - Clear, placid Leman ! thy contrasted lake, With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake , Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction ; once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
Стр. 107 - When these wild ecstasies shall be matured Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, Thy memory be as a dwelling-place For all sweet sounds and harmonies ; oh ! then, If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief, Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts Of tender joy wilt thou remember me, And these my exhortations ! Nor, perchance — If I should be where I no more can hear } Thy voice...
Стр. 179 - Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet! God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God!
Стр. 105 - All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods, ' And mountains ; and of all that we behold From this green earth; of all the mighty world Of eye and ear, both what they half create *, And what perceive...
Стр. 178 - Blanc! The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful form ! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently! Around thee and above Deep is the air, and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look...
Стр. 180 - Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds ! And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God ! Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost ! Ye wild goats sporting round the eagle's nest ! Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain-storm ! Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds ! Ye signs and wonders of the elements, Utter forth God...
Стр. 85 - Under the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither; Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.
Стр. 104 - That time is past, And all its aching joys are now no more, And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur; other gifts Have followed ; for such loss, I would believe, Abundant recompence. For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue.
Стр. 102 - Five years have past ; five summers, with the length Of five long winters ! and again I hear These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs With a soft inland murmur. — Once again Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs, That on a wild secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion ; and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky. The day is come when I again repose Here, under this dark sycamore, and view...