Poems of Places: England and Wales, Band 2Henry Wadsworth Longfellow J.R. Osgood and Company, 1876 |
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Seite 12
... look upon the sister fane of Wells ! It lifts its forehead in the summer air ; Sweet o'er the champaign sound its sabbath bells ; Its roof rolls back the chant , or voice of prayer . Anxious we ask , Will Heaven that temple spare , Or ...
... look upon the sister fane of Wells ! It lifts its forehead in the summer air ; Sweet o'er the champaign sound its sabbath bells ; Its roof rolls back the chant , or voice of prayer . Anxious we ask , Will Heaven that temple spare , Or ...
Seite 26
... Looks up to catch a parting smile , Feels less assured than thou , dear maid , When , ere thy ruby lips could part ( As close to mine thy cheek was laid ) , Thine eyes had opened all thy heart . Then , then I marked the chastened joy ...
... Looks up to catch a parting smile , Feels less assured than thou , dear maid , When , ere thy ruby lips could part ( As close to mine thy cheek was laid ) , Thine eyes had opened all thy heart . Then , then I marked the chastened joy ...
Seite 29
... looks and winding ways , Thy murmurous accents glad of yesternight , Sweet as from earnest lips the words of praise ; Where art thou , friend ? I hear the impetuous noise Of hurried passion , the unmeaning roar Of some wild torrent : it ...
... looks and winding ways , Thy murmurous accents glad of yesternight , Sweet as from earnest lips the words of praise ; Where art thou , friend ? I hear the impetuous noise Of hurried passion , the unmeaning roar Of some wild torrent : it ...
Seite 33
... look aghast ; Sad servitude ! such comfortless annoy May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste ! Ne superstition clog his dance of joy , Ne vision empty , vain , his native bliss destroy . Near to this dome is found a patch so green On ...
... look aghast ; Sad servitude ! such comfortless annoy May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste ! Ne superstition clog his dance of joy , Ne vision empty , vain , his native bliss destroy . Near to this dome is found a patch so green On ...
Seite 44
... looks not like an earthly chase ; Sir Walter and the hart are left alone . The poor hart toils along the mountain - side ; I will not stop to tell how far he fled , Nor will I mention by what death he died ; But now the knight beholds ...
... looks not like an earthly chase ; Sir Walter and the hart are left alone . The poor hart toils along the mountain - side ; I will not stop to tell how far he fled , Nor will I mention by what death he died ; But now the knight beholds ...
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Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
ABBEY ancient arch behold bells beneath breast breath breeze brow calm clouds crown Cusha dark days of yore dead death deep doth dream dwell earth eyes fair gazed gleam gliding glory GRASMERE grave gray green HADDON HALL hall hand happy hath HATHERN hear heard heart heaven Helvellyn Henry Alford hill holy hour INGLEWOOD FOREST James Payn King light London lonely look Lord mighty MONGEWELL mountain mourned NETLEY ABBEY NEWSTEAD ABBEY night Nore o'er once pass peace Praise rise roar Robert Southey Robert Stephen Hawker rock rolled round Saint scene shade shine sight silent Sir Walter sleep smile solemn song soul sound spot stone stood stream street sweet thee thine Thomas Tickell thou thought tomb towers trees uppe vale voice vulgar Boy walls wave Whittington wild William Lisle Bowles William Shakespeare William Wordsworth wind woods
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 60 - My liege, I did deny no prisoners. But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat...
Seite 34 - MY HEART aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Seite 175 - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! Heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life.
Seite 35 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Seite 154 - THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN. AT the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears, Hangs a thrush that sings loud — it has sung for three years ; Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard In the silence of morning the song of the bird. Tis a note of enchantment ; what ails her ? She sees A mountain ascending, a vision of trees ; Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside.
Seite 234 - The furious German comes, with his clarions and his drums, His bravoes of Alsatia, and pages of Whitehall; They are bursting on our flanks! Grasp your pikes! Close your ranks! For Rupert never comes but to conquer or to fall. They are here! They rush on! We are broken! We are gone! Our left is borne before them like stubble on the blast. O Lord, put forth Thy might! O Lord, defend the right! Stand back to back, in God's name, and fight it to the last!
Seite 153 - ON THE DEATH OF DR, LEV KIT. CONDEMNED to hope's delusive mine, As on we toil from day to day, By sudden blasts, or slow decline, Our social comforts drop away. Well tried through many a varying year, See Levett to the grave descend, Officious, innocent, sincere, Of every friendless name the friend.
Seite 117 - Receding and speeding, And shocking and rocking, And darting and parting, And threading and spreading, And whizzing and hissing, And dripping and skipping, And hitting and splitting, And shining and twining, And rattling and battling, And shaking and...
Seite 36 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
Seite 91 - I sat and spun within the doore, My thread brake off, I raised myne eyes; The level sun, like ruddy ore, Lay sinking in the barren skies; And dark against day's golden death She moved where Lindis wandereth, My sonne's faire wife, Elizabeth. 'Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!' calling, Ere the early dews were falling, Farre away I heard her song. 'Cusha! Cusha!