The Poets of the Nineteenth CenturyHarper & Bros., 1857 - 616 Seiten |
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Seite 12
... Thou wast a bauble once - a cup and ball , Which babes might play with ; and the thievish jay , Seeking her food , with ease might have purloin'd The auburn nut that held thee , swallowing down Thy yet close - folded latitude of boughs ...
... Thou wast a bauble once - a cup and ball , Which babes might play with ; and the thievish jay , Seeking her food , with ease might have purloin'd The auburn nut that held thee , swallowing down Thy yet close - folded latitude of boughs ...
Seite 13
... thou becam'st a twig . Who liv'd , when thou wast such ? O could'st thou speak , As in Dodona once thy kindred trees Oracular , I would not curious ask The future , best unknown , but at thy mouth , Inquisitive , the less ambiguous past ...
... thou becam'st a twig . Who liv'd , when thou wast such ? O could'st thou speak , As in Dodona once thy kindred trees Oracular , I would not curious ask The future , best unknown , but at thy mouth , Inquisitive , the less ambiguous past ...
Seite 14
... Thou hadst within thy bole solid contents , That might have ribb'd the sides and plank'd the deck Of some flagg'd admiral ; and tortuous arms , The shipwright's darling treasure , didst present To the four - quarter'd winds , robust and ...
... Thou hadst within thy bole solid contents , That might have ribb'd the sides and plank'd the deck Of some flagg'd admiral ; and tortuous arms , The shipwright's darling treasure , didst present To the four - quarter'd winds , robust and ...
Seite 15
... Thou temptest none , but rather much forbidd'st The feller's toil , which thou could'st ill requite . Yet is thy root sincere , sound as the rock , A quarry of stout spurs and knotted fangs , Which , crook'd into a thousand whimsies ...
... Thou temptest none , but rather much forbidd'st The feller's toil , which thou could'st ill requite . Yet is thy root sincere , sound as the rock , A quarry of stout spurs and knotted fangs , Which , crook'd into a thousand whimsies ...
Seite 18
... thou art she . My mother ! when I learn'd that thou wast dead , Say , wast thou conscious of the tears I shed ? Hover'd thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son , Wretch even then , life's journey just begun ? Perhaps thou gav'st me , though ...
... thou art she . My mother ! when I learn'd that thou wast dead , Say , wast thou conscious of the tears I shed ? Hover'd thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son , Wretch even then , life's journey just begun ? Perhaps thou gav'st me , though ...
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beam beauty bends beneath bird blue bosom Bouillabaisse bower breast breath bright brow charms cheek cloud cold dark dead dear deep delight DEN BOSCH dread dream earth EPICURUS fair Fancy fear flowers fond gaze gentle gleam glory grave green grey hand hast hath heard heart heaven hill hour Kilmeny King Arthur Lautaro LEWESDON HILL light living lonely look lov'd MARY TIGHE morning mortal decay murmur never night o'er ocean old oaken bucket pride Renegado rocks rose round round the twisted scene seem'd shade shining shore sigh sight silent Sir Bedivere sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stood storm stout spurs stream summer sweet tears thee thine thou art thought touch of grace tree trembling Twas vale voice wandering wave weep wild wind wings wood youth