The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English LanguageMacmillan, 1890 - 346 Seiten |
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Seite 1
... sing , Cuckoo , jug - jug , pu - we , to - witta - woo ! The palm and may make country houses gay , Lambs frisk and play , the shepherds pipe all day , And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay , Cuckoo , jug - jug , pu - we , to ...
... sing , Cuckoo , jug - jug , pu - we , to - witta - woo ! The palm and may make country houses gay , Lambs frisk and play , the shepherds pipe all day , And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay , Cuckoo , jug - jug , pu - we , to ...
Seite 2
... sing : Make an eternal spring ! Give life to this dark world which lieth dead ; Spread forth thy golden hair In larger locks than thou wast wont before , And emperor - like decore With diadem of pearl thy temples fair : Chase hence the ...
... sing : Make an eternal spring ! Give life to this dark world which lieth dead ; Spread forth thy golden hair In larger locks than thou wast wont before , And emperor - like decore With diadem of pearl thy temples fair : Chase hence the ...
Seite 4
... sing madrigals . There will I make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies , A cap of flowers , and a kirtle Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle . A gown made of the finest wool , Which from our pretty lambs we pull , Fair ...
... sing madrigals . There will I make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies , A cap of flowers , and a kirtle Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle . A gown made of the finest wool , Which from our pretty lambs we pull , Fair ...
Seite 6
... sing hey ding a ding : Sweet lovers love the Spring . Between the acres of the rye These pretty country folks would lie : This carol they began that hour , How that life was but a flower : And therefore take the present time With a hey ...
... sing hey ding a ding : Sweet lovers love the Spring . Between the acres of the rye These pretty country folks would lie : This carol they began that hour , How that life was but a flower : And therefore take the present time With a hey ...
Seite 8
... sing , ' tis with so dull a cheer , That leaves look pale , dreading the winter's near . W. Shakespeare XII A ... sings hymns at heaven's gate ; For thy sweet love remember'd , such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with ...
... sing , ' tis with so dull a cheer , That leaves look pale , dreading the winter's near . W. Shakespeare XII A ... sings hymns at heaven's gate ; For thy sweet love remember'd , such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with ...
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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.