The Poets of the Nineteenth CenturyRobert Aris Willmott George Routledge & Company, 1857 - 397 Seiten |
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Seite 11
... Till silenc'd by the owl's terrific song , Or blast that shrieks by fits the shuddering aisles along . Or , when the setting moon , in crimson dyed , Hung o'er the dark and melancholy deep , To haunted streams , remote from man , he ...
... Till silenc'd by the owl's terrific song , Or blast that shrieks by fits the shuddering aisles along . Or , when the setting moon , in crimson dyed , Hung o'er the dark and melancholy deep , To haunted streams , remote from man , he ...
Seite 13
... till trees shall speak again ! Time made thee what thou wast , king of the woods ; And Time hath made thee what thou art - a cave Once thy spreading boughs For owls to roost in . O'erhung the champaign ; and the num'rous flocks That ...
... till trees shall speak again ! Time made thee what thou wast , king of the woods ; And Time hath made thee what thou art - a cave Once thy spreading boughs For owls to roost in . O'erhung the champaign ; and the num'rous flocks That ...
Seite 18
... beguil'd , Dupe of to - morrow even from a child . Thus many a sad to - morrow came and went , Till , all my stock of infant sorrow spent , I learn'd at last submission to my lot , But 18 LINES TO MY MOTHER'S PICTURE .
... beguil'd , Dupe of to - morrow even from a child . Thus many a sad to - morrow came and went , Till , all my stock of infant sorrow spent , I learn'd at last submission to my lot , But 18 LINES TO MY MOTHER'S PICTURE .
Seite 29
... Till Spring again shall call forth every bell , And dress with humid hands her wreaths again . Ah , poor humanity ! so frail , so fair , Are the fond visions of thy early day , Till tyrant passion , and corrosive care , Bid all thy ...
... Till Spring again shall call forth every bell , And dress with humid hands her wreaths again . Ah , poor humanity ! so frail , so fair , Are the fond visions of thy early day , Till tyrant passion , and corrosive care , Bid all thy ...
Seite 42
... till Nature's self shall change . These are the beauties of thy woodland scene At each return of Spring : yet some delight Rather to view the change ; and fondly gaze On fading colours , and the thousand tints . Which Autumn lays upon ...
... till Nature's self shall change . These are the beauties of thy woodland scene At each return of Spring : yet some delight Rather to view the change ; and fondly gaze On fading colours , and the thousand tints . Which Autumn lays upon ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
art thou ARTEVELDE beam beauty beneath bird blessed BOSCH bosom breast breath breeze bright brow Bruges cheek cloud coursers dark dead dear deep delight dread dream earth EPICURUS face fair father fear flowers gaze gentle gleam glory grave green grey hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill hope hour James Godwin JOANNA BAILLIE Kilmeny Lautaro LEWESDON HILL light Lochiel lonely look look'd lov'd MARY RUSSELL MITFORD MARY TIGHE Medes morning mother murmurs night o'er Orra pride Queen rocks rose round SACK OF BALTIMORE scene seem'd shade shadow shining shore sigh sight silent sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stept stood storm stream sudden fear summer sweet tears thee thine thou thought trees trembling Twas vale voice wave weep wild wind wings youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 137 - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
Seite 162 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease, , Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou...
Seite 132 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could lie down like a tired child And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear...
Seite 180 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below — As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormv winds do blow.
Seite 179 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow...
Seite 136 - Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sun-burnt mirth ! O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth ; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...
Seite 118 - The last, the sole, the dearest link Between me and the eternal brink, Which bound me to my failing race, Was broken in this fatal place.
Seite 204 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him.
Seite 115 - A double dungeon wall and wave Have made — and like a living grave Below the surface of the lake The dark vault lies wherein we lay...
Seite 172 - Lo !. the death-shot of foemen outspeeding, he rode Companionless, bearing destruction abroad ; But down let him stoop from his havoc on high ! Ah ! home let him speed — for the spoiler is nigh. Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast, Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast ? 'Tis the fire-shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven From his eyrie, that beacons the darkness of heaven. Oh, crested Lochiel ! the peerless in might, Whose banners arise on the battlements...