The book of recitations [ed.] by C.W. Smith |
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Seite 21
... fair dame such a tale I could tell As would thrill thy bold heart ; but how long she remained , So racked was my spirit , my bosom so pained , I knew not - but ages seemed short to the while , Though , proffer the Highlands , nay , all ...
... fair dame such a tale I could tell As would thrill thy bold heart ; but how long she remained , So racked was my spirit , my bosom so pained , I knew not - but ages seemed short to the while , Though , proffer the Highlands , nay , all ...
Seite 34
... fair ! That death should settle in thy glorious eye , And leave his stillness in this clustering hair ! How could he mark thee for the silent tomb ! My proud boy , Absalom ! " Cold is thy brow , my son ! and I am chill , As to my bosom ...
... fair ! That death should settle in thy glorious eye , And leave his stillness in this clustering hair ! How could he mark thee for the silent tomb ! My proud boy , Absalom ! " Cold is thy brow , my son ! and I am chill , As to my bosom ...
Seite 35
... and beauty's pride . Happy , happy , happy pair ! None but the brave , None but the brave , None but the brave deserves the fair . Timotheus , placed on high Amid the tuneful choir , RECITATIONS . 35 336 Alexander's Feast Dryden.
... and beauty's pride . Happy , happy , happy pair ! None but the brave , None but the brave , None but the brave deserves the fair . Timotheus , placed on high Amid the tuneful choir , RECITATIONS . 35 336 Alexander's Feast Dryden.
Seite 36
... fair and ever young : The jolly god in triumph comes ; Sound the trumpets ; beat the drums : Flushed with a purple grace , He shows his honest face : Now give the hautboys breath . He comes ! he comes ! Bacchus , ever fair and young ...
... fair and ever young : The jolly god in triumph comes ; Sound the trumpets ; beat the drums : Flushed with a purple grace , He shows his honest face : Now give the hautboys breath . He comes ! he comes ! Bacchus , ever fair and young ...
Seite 38
... fair Who caused his care , And sighed and looked , sighed and looked , Sighed and looked , and sighed again : At length , with love and wine at once oppressed , The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast . Now strike the golden lyre ...
... fair Who caused his care , And sighed and looked , sighed and looked , Sighed and looked , and sighed again : At length , with love and wine at once oppressed , The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast . Now strike the golden lyre ...
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Absalom arms battle beauty beneath blood bosom bowed brave breast breath bright brother brow Cæsar clouds cold cried customed hill dark dead death deep dread dream earth Eleonora di Toledo EUGENE ARAM fair falchion father fear fell gazed Gelert gold grave hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hour Inchcape Rock Jaspar Julius Cæsar king knew Lars Porsena light lips live Lochiel lonely look Lord William loud Macgregor moon morn never Nevermore night numbers o'er once pale pride proud Quoth Quoth the Raven rock rose round Samian wine sate shone shore shout sigh silent slave sleep smile song soul Souliotes sound spake spirit steed stood stream strong sweet sword tears Thaïs thee thine thou thought Twas victorious bands voice wave weary weep wild wind young youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 211 - Wept o'er his wounds or tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won. Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Seite 130 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird, or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting: "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! Quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Seite 275 - O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners...
Seite 19 - Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
Seite 282 - With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life ; But that the dread of something after death, — The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, — puzzles the will ; And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
Seite 260 - Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That, in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy.
Seite 63 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Seite 278 - tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this! But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: So excellent a king; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly.
Seite 274 - This is the state of man : To-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes ; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Seite 210 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.