The Library of Choice Literature and Encyclopedia of Universal Authorship: The Masterpieces of the Standard Writers of All Nations and All Time, Band 8

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Gebbie Publishing, 1894
 

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Seite 131 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn : He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! I remember, I remember...
Seite 59 - 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 366 - That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure ; For often at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that Nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing, And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell, Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well : The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket, arose from the well.
Seite 59 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Seite 270 - I do not know what I may appear to the world ; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.
Seite 59 - O for a beaker full of the warm south, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth ; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim.
Seite 257 - Babel itself in our mirth; And o'erthrew them with prophesying To the old of the new world's worth; For each age is a dream that is dying, Or one that is coming to birth.
Seite 93 - They fought — like brave men, long and well, They piled that ground with Moslem slain; They conquered — but Bozzaris fell, Bleeding at every vein. His few surviving comrades saw His smile when rang their proud hurrah, And the red field was won; Then saw in death his eyelids close Calmly, as to a night's repose, Like flowers at set of sun.
Seite 93 - AT midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk was dreaming of the hour When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power ; In dreams, through camp and court, he bore The trophies of a conqueror ; In dreams his song of triumph heard. Then wore his monarch's signet ring, Then pressed that monarch's throne — a King ; As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, As Eden's garden bird.
Seite 79 - Oh ! thou art fairer than the evening air, Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars...

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