Selections from the British Poets, Band 2Harper & brothers, 1840 |
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Seite 17
... thing . By trap or net , by arrow or by sling , These he detested , those he scorn'd to wield . He wish'd to be the guardian , not the king , Tyrant far less , or traitor of the field . And sure the sylvan reign unbloody joy might yield ...
... thing . By trap or net , by arrow or by sling , These he detested , those he scorn'd to wield . He wish'd to be the guardian , not the king , Tyrant far less , or traitor of the field . And sure the sylvan reign unbloody joy might yield ...
Seite 25
... things , More trifling still than they . " And what is friendship but a name , A charm that lulls to sleep ; A shade that follows wealth or fame , And leaves the wretch to weep ? " And love is still an emptier sound , The modern fair ...
... things , More trifling still than they . " And what is friendship but a name , A charm that lulls to sleep ; A shade that follows wealth or fame , And leaves the wretch to weep ? " And love is still an emptier sound , The modern fair ...
Seite 31
... thing , That feebly bends beside the plashy spring : She , wretched matron , forced in age , for bread , To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread , To pick her wintry fagot from the thorn , To seek her nightly shed , and weep ...
... thing , That feebly bends beside the plashy spring : She , wretched matron , forced in age , for bread , To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread , To pick her wintry fagot from the thorn , To seek her nightly shed , and weep ...
Seite 38
... things like these for thee ! How do thy potions , with insidious joy , Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy ! Kingdoms by thee to sickly greatness grown , Boast of a florid vigour not their own : At ev'ry draught more large and large ...
... things like these for thee ! How do thy potions , with insidious joy , Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy ! Kingdoms by thee to sickly greatness grown , Boast of a florid vigour not their own : At ev'ry draught more large and large ...
Seite 52
... her pages blot ; Known be the character , the thing forgot ; Let it , to disappoint each future aim , Live without sex , and die without a name ! WILLIAM FALCONER . 1730-1769 . FROM " THE SHIPWRECK . 52 CHARLES CHURCHILL .
... her pages blot ; Known be the character , the thing forgot ; Let it , to disappoint each future aim , Live without sex , and die without a name ! WILLIAM FALCONER . 1730-1769 . FROM " THE SHIPWRECK . 52 CHARLES CHURCHILL .
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
art thou auld lang syne beauty beneath bless'd bloom bosom bower Branksome Hall breast breath bright brow burst of joy calm charms cheek clouds dark dead dear death deep delight dread dream earth Elderslie ev'ry fair fame fancy fled flowers fond frae gaze gentle grave green happy harp hath hear heart Heaven hill hope hour John Gilpin JOSEPH ATKINSON Kilmeny land light living Lochiel lonely look Lord lyre Marmion mirth morn mountain murmur muse Nature's ne'er never night nymph o'er pass'd peace PIBROCH pleasure pow'r pride rapture rill rose round scene seem'd shade shine shore sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star stream sweet tears thee thine thou art thought Twas vale voice wandering wave weary weep wild wind wings Yarrow youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 166 - O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly, at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet or in shroud we wound him, But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
Seite 152 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild ; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine ; Fast-fading violets cover'd up in leaves ; And mid-May's eldest child The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Seite 179 - But oh, that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover ! A savage place ! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover...
Seite 32 - 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.
Seite 198 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, - alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe And burning with high hope shall moulder cold and low.
Seite 196 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gather'd then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush!
Seite 33 - Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, The love he bore to learning was in fault; The village all declared how much he knew, 'Twas certain he could write and cipher too; Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage, And e'en the story ran that he could gauge...
Seite 167 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him ! But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring, And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Seite 207 - SHE walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies ; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes : Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Seite 155 - O attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, Beauty is truth, truth beauty,— that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.