Anthology of English Poetry: Beowulf to KiplingB.H. Sanborn & Company, 1903 - 432 Seiten |
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... dead nimes . 1608 . 440-441 . He whom death takes must give himself over into the keeping of God . Gæða wyrd swā hio scel . 455 . Fate goes ever as she must . Fela sceal gebidan leofes ond lādes , se pe longe hēr on yssum win - dagum ...
... dead nimes . 1608 . 440-441 . He whom death takes must give himself over into the keeping of God . Gæða wyrd swā hio scel . 455 . Fate goes ever as she must . Fela sceal gebidan leofes ond lādes , se pe longe hēr on yssum win - dagum ...
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... dead man's 745 Feet and hands , too , eaten entirely . Nearer he strode then , the stout - hearted warrior Snatched as he slumbered , seizing with hand - grip , Forward the foeman foined with his hand ; Caught he quickly the cunning ...
... dead man's 745 Feet and hands , too , eaten entirely . Nearer he strode then , the stout - hearted warrior Snatched as he slumbered , seizing with hand - grip , Forward the foeman foined with his hand ; Caught he quickly the cunning ...
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... the towering wave ! The hoary wolf Another tore when dead ; and one an earl Hid in the hollowed earth with dreary face . 85 So hath men's Maker wasted this Earth's home , Until the work of elder giants stood Void of its THE WANDERER I I.
... the towering wave ! The hoary wolf Another tore when dead ; and one an earl Hid in the hollowed earth with dreary face . 85 So hath men's Maker wasted this Earth's home , Until the work of elder giants stood Void of its THE WANDERER I I.
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... dead as living ever him ador'd : Upon his shield the like was also scor'd , For soveraine hope , which in his helpe he had : Right faithfull true he was in deede and word , But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad ; Yet nothing did ...
... dead as living ever him ador'd : Upon his shield the like was also scor'd , For soveraine hope , which in his helpe he had : Right faithfull true he was in deede and word , But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad ; Yet nothing did ...
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... dead , dead ere his prime , Young Lycidas , and hath not left his peer . 10 Who would not sing for Lycidas ? he knew Himself to sing , and build the lofty rhyme . He must not float upon his watery bier Unwept , and welter to the ...
... dead , dead ere his prime , Young Lycidas , and hath not left his peer . 10 Who would not sing for Lycidas ? he knew Himself to sing , and build the lofty rhyme . He must not float upon his watery bier Unwept , and welter to the ...
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Anthology of English Poetry: Beowulf to Kipling Robert Naylor Whiteford Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2009 |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Adonais Æneid Alfred Tennyson Analyse Atalanta Beadsman beauty beneath Beowulf bird breast breath bright Burns Camelot Canto child cold curse dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth English poetry eternal eyes fair fear flowers forever Gleam golden grief hair hand hath hear heard heart Heaven Hippomenes holy Il Penseroso Keats King L'Allegro Lady of Shalott Lancelot Lancelot and Elaine light lines lips live Loch Achray look Lord Lycidas Matthew Arnold Milton moon ne'er never night Note o'er once Optional Poems pain Phrases poet poetry Porphyro river rose round sail Samian wine shadow shore sigh sing sleep smile song sonnet sorrow soul sound spirit stanza stars storm sweet tears Tennyson thine things thou art thought thro Tintern Abbey Twas voice waves weep wild wind Wordsworth ΙΟ
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 190 - Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith that all which we behold Is...
Seite 205 - EARTH has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Seite 67 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Seite 67 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's •waste...
Seite 190 - 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...
Seite 203 - Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides. Will no one tell me what she sings? — Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago: Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day?
Seite 299 - Darkling I listen; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod.
Seite 298 - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy...
Seite 272 - Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware ! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair ! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.
Seite 400 - The sea is calm to-night. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits; - on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.