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The Children's Garland from the Best Poets, Selected by C. Patmore
Coventry Kersey D. Patmore
Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2016
a-begging Binnorie bird bishop bishop of Hereford blow bower brave bright cheer child cold cried Crocodile dark dead dear door Dora doth eyes fair fair lady fast father fear fell flowers gallant gallant story Gilpin gold green grew hand Hark hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill horse Inchcape Inchcape Rock John John Barleycorn king lady land light Little John Little white Lily live Lochinvar look look'd Lord Lord Randal loud maid merry moon morning mother ne'er never Nevermore night o'er Old Ballad old courtier poison'd poor pray quoth Robin Hood rode round S. T. Coleridge shepherd sing smile song soon soul steed stood storm stream sweet Sweet William's Ghost tell thee thou thought took trees Twas unto wild Wildgrave wind wings Witch word young
Seite 159 - TIGER! Tiger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?
Seite 67 - O sweeter than the marriage-feast, Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company!— To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay!
Seite 191 - Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and. curious volume of forgotten lore — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. " "Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more.
Seite 328 - And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail, And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances uplifted, the trumpet unblown.
Seite 194 - Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore: Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never — nevermore.
Seite 61 - And every tongue, through utter drought, Was withered at the root; "We could not speak, no more than if We had been choked with soot. "Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung.
Seite 80 - The breakers were right beneath her bows, She drifted a dreary wreck, And a whooping billow swept the crew Like icicles from her deck. She struck where the white and fleecy waves Looked soft as carded wool, But the cruel rocks, they gored her side Like the horns of an angry bull.
Seite 57 - It was not in the battle; No tempest gave the shock; She sprang no fatal leak; She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath; His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.