The poetical reader, with notes and questions by A.W. BuchanAlexander Winton Buchan 1859 |
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Seite 8
... tell me , is this death ? Mother ! your hand— " Here - lay it on my wrist , And place the other thus , beneath my head , And say , sweet mother ! -say , when I am dead , Shall I be missed ? " Never beside your knee Shall I kneel down ...
... tell me , is this death ? Mother ! your hand— " Here - lay it on my wrist , And place the other thus , beneath my head , And say , sweet mother ! -say , when I am dead , Shall I be missed ? " Never beside your knee Shall I kneel down ...
Seite 12
... tell them Hal's not far behind . " " Oh ! does he live ! " my father cried ; My mother did not stay to speak ; My Jessy now I silent eyed , Who throbb'd as if her heart would break . My mother saw her catching sigh , And hid her face ...
... tell them Hal's not far behind . " " Oh ! does he live ! " my father cried ; My mother did not stay to speak ; My Jessy now I silent eyed , Who throbb'd as if her heart would break . My mother saw her catching sigh , And hid her face ...
Seite 17
... Tell me how the sailor's mother had won Napoleon's favour . 16. How was the sailor's filial affection rewarded ? 17. How greatly did the sailor value the coin ? THE SAILOR'S MOTHER . Prime , adj . ( L. primus ) . Ma'tron , n . ( L ...
... Tell me how the sailor's mother had won Napoleon's favour . 16. How was the sailor's filial affection rewarded ? 17. How greatly did the sailor value the coin ? THE SAILOR'S MOTHER . Prime , adj . ( L. primus ) . Ma'tron , n . ( L ...
Seite 23
... Tell me the prettiest spot to him at night . 9. In what state are matters at home ? 10. What carries he home on his shoul- der ? LINES TO A SWALLOW . THOMAS AIRD . " The Swallow , " says Sir Humphrey Davy in his Salmonia , " is one of ...
... Tell me the prettiest spot to him at night . 9. In what state are matters at home ? 10. What carries he home on his shoul- der ? LINES TO A SWALLOW . THOMAS AIRD . " The Swallow , " says Sir Humphrey Davy in his Salmonia , " is one of ...
Seite 26
... TELL me not , in mournful numbers , " Life is but an empty dream ! " For the soul is dead that slumbers , And things are not what they seem . Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; " Dust thou art , to dust ...
... TELL me not , in mournful numbers , " Life is but an empty dream ! " For the soul is dead that slumbers , And things are not what they seem . Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; " Dust thou art , to dust ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Andromache angel beauty beneath billows bird breast bright brothers Canute Cardinal Wolsey Charles Mackay child Christian Patriotism clouds Colma cottage cried dead dear dear Jessy death deep Dismal Swamp doth dread earth eternal fair father fear flowers Forever-never friends glory green grief hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven Henry II hill hung Keeldar king Lausus LEIGH HUNT light live look Lord Mezentius mighty Milton monarch morning mother N. P. WILLIS ne'er nest never Never-forever night o'er ocean poet praise pride Queen Rebel Angels rest rock rose round Salgar seem'd Shakspere sigh silent sing SIR WALTER SCOTT sleep smile song sorrow soul Spanish Armada speak stood storm streams summer sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought throne tree Twas voice weary wild wind wing word Xerxes
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 23 - Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Seite 23 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At' that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Seite 98 - They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms...
Seite 70 - Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew. Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view: Like a rose embowered In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflowered, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves. Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain-awakened flowers, All that ever was Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.
Seite 60 - Thou first and chief, sole sovereign of the Vale ! O struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky or when they sink : Companion of the morning-star at dawn, Thyself Earth's rosy star, and of the dawn Co-herald : wake, O wake, and utter praise ! Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in Earth ? Who filled thy countenance with rosy light ? Who made thee parent of perpetual streams...
Seite 69 - What thou art we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...
Seite 87 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time ; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
Seite 54 - Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
Seite 64 - The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot Sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead. That is the grasshopper's : he takes the lead In summer luxury — he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
Seite 91 - So went to bed : where eagerly his sickness Pursued him still ; and, three nights after this, About the hour of eight, (which he himself Foretold should be his last, ) full of repentance, Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.