The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English LanguageMacmillan, 1890 - 346 Seiten |
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... fair : Chase hence the ugly night Which serves but to make dear thy glorious light . -This is that happy morn , That day , long - wished day Of all my life so dark , ( If cruel stars have not my ruin sworn And fates my hopes betray ) ...
... fair : Chase hence the ugly night Which serves but to make dear thy glorious light . -This is that happy morn , That day , long - wished day Of all my life so dark , ( If cruel stars have not my ruin sworn And fates my hopes betray ) ...
Seite 9
... fair Friend , you never can be old , For as you were when first your eye I eyed Such seems your beauty still . Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers ' pride ; Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd In ...
... fair Friend , you never can be old , For as you were when first your eye I eyed Such seems your beauty still . Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers ' pride ; Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd In ...
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... fair Rosaline ! Her eyes are sapphires set in snow , Resembling heaven by every wink ; The Gods do fear whenas they glow , And I do tremble when I think Heigh ho , would she were mine ! Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud That ...
... fair Rosaline ! Her eyes are sapphires set in snow , Resembling heaven by every wink ; The Gods do fear whenas they glow , And I do tremble when I think Heigh ho , would she were mine ! Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud That ...
Seite 11
... fair Rosaline , Since for a fair there's fairer none , Nor for her virtues so divine : Heigh ho , fair Rosaline ; Heigh ho , my heart ! would God that she were mine ! XVII T. Lodge COLIN Beauty sat bathing by a spring Where fairest ...
... fair Rosaline , Since for a fair there's fairer none , Nor for her virtues so divine : Heigh ho , fair Rosaline ; Heigh ho , my heart ! would God that she were mine ! XVII T. Lodge COLIN Beauty sat bathing by a spring Where fairest ...
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... fair from fair sometime declines , By chance , or nature's changing course , untrimm'd . But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest ; Nor shall death brag thou wanderest in his shade , When in ...
... fair from fair sometime declines , By chance , or nature's changing course , untrimm'd . But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest ; Nor shall death brag thou wanderest in his shade , When in ...
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Arethuse art thou beauty behold beneath birds blest bonnie bower breast breath bright Brignall brow cheek clouds County Guy dark dead dear death delight dost doth dream earth ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA eyes fair Fancy fear flowers frae gentle glory golden golden slumbers Gray green happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill hour John Anderson Kirconnell kiss ladies leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Byron love's lover Lycidas lyre Milton mind morn mountains Muse ne'er never night Nymph o'er P. B. Shelley pale passion Pindar pleasure poem Poetry poets round Rule Britannia seem'd shade Shakespeare shore sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star stream sweet tears thee There's thine thou art thought tree Twas voice waly waly waves weary weep white-thorn wild winds wings Wordsworth Yarrow youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 142 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
Seite 296 - The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose, The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare, Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
Seite 302 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; In a cowslip's bell I lie : There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Seite 141 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How jocund did they drive their team a-field ! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke.
Seite 299 - Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings; Blank misgivings of a creature Moving about in worlds not realized, High instincts before which our mortal nature Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised...
Seite 237 - Waking or asleep, Thou of death must deem Things more true and deep Than we mortals dream, Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream ? We look before and after, And pine for what is not ; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught ; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought Yet if we could scorn' Hate, and pride, and fear ; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
Seite 15 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Seite 141 - Await alike the inevitable hour: The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death?
Seite 283 - mid the steep sky's commotion, Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed, Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean, Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread On the blue surface of thine airy surge, Like the bright hair uplifted from the head Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge Of the horizon to the zenith's height The locks of the approaching storm.
Seite 143 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.