A Treasury of Favorite PoemsWalter Learned F. A. Stokes Company, 1891 - 390 sider |
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Side 13
... o'er me , That my soul cannot resist : A feeling of sadness and longing , That is not akin to pain , And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain . Come , read to me some poem , Some simple and heartfelt lay , That shall ...
... o'er me , That my soul cannot resist : A feeling of sadness and longing , That is not akin to pain , And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain . Come , read to me some poem , Some simple and heartfelt lay , That shall ...
Side 22
... o'er with your smiles ; Too blest if it tells me that , ' mid the gay cheer , Some kind voice had murmur'd , " I wish he were here ! " Let Fate do her worst , there are relics of joy , Bright dreams of the past , which she cannot ...
... o'er with your smiles ; Too blest if it tells me that , ' mid the gay cheer , Some kind voice had murmur'd , " I wish he were here ! " Let Fate do her worst , there are relics of joy , Bright dreams of the past , which she cannot ...
Side 32
... o'er me flung Or a wrinkle creased my brow , There was one whose heart was mine ; But she's something now divine , And , though come my ships from sea , They can bring no heart to me , Evermore , evermore ! ROBERT BARRY COFFIN ( " BARRY ...
... o'er me flung Or a wrinkle creased my brow , There was one whose heart was mine ; But she's something now divine , And , though come my ships from sea , They can bring no heart to me , Evermore , evermore ! ROBERT BARRY COFFIN ( " BARRY ...
Side 33
... O'er life's dim , unsounded sea , Seeking only some calm clime ; — Touch us gently , gentle Time ! BRYAN WALLER PROCTER ( " BARRY CORNWALL " ) . HOME , SWEET HOME . ' MID pleasures and palaces though we may roam , Be it ever so humble ...
... O'er life's dim , unsounded sea , Seeking only some calm clime ; — Touch us gently , gentle Time ! BRYAN WALLER PROCTER ( " BARRY CORNWALL " ) . HOME , SWEET HOME . ' MID pleasures and palaces though we may roam , Be it ever so humble ...
Side 39
... o'er the Tiber , Pealing solemnly . Oh ! the bells of Shandon Sound far more grand on The pleasant waters Of the river Lee . There's a bell in Moscow ; While on tower and kiosk , oh , In Saint Sophia The Turkman gets , And loud in air ...
... o'er the Tiber , Pealing solemnly . Oh ! the bells of Shandon Sound far more grand on The pleasant waters Of the river Lee . There's a bell in Moscow ; While on tower and kiosk , oh , In Saint Sophia The Turkman gets , And loud in air ...
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A Treasury of Favorite Poems (Classic Reprint) Walter Learned Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2015 |
A Treasury of Favorite Poems (Classic Reprint) Walter Learned Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2018 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
ALFRED TENNYSON angels Annabel Lee Auf Wiedersehen beauty bells bird bosom Bouillabaisse boys breast breath bride bright brow Carcassonne CHARLES KINGSLEY cold dark dear death Douglas dream dying eyes face fair flowers Forever-never gone grass grave green hair hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Henry of Navarre HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW hill King kiss land late light lips live lonely look look'd Lord lover maiden Mary mother ne'er never Never-forever Nevermore night o'er old oaken bucket Raven rest river river Lee rose ROSE TERRY COOKE round sail shine sigh sing sleep smile snow song soul sound stars stood sweet T. B. ALDRICH tears thee There's thine thou thought to-night Tommy's dead trees twas voice W. D. HoWELL wait wave weary weep wind word young
Populære avsnitt
Side 208 - I can give not what men call love, But wilt thou accept not The worship the heart lifts above And the Heavens reject not, — The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow?
Side 53 - Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings, The powerful of the earth — the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre.
Side 70 - Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken' d birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering square ; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more. " Dear as remember'd kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others ; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret ; O Death in Life, the days that are no more.
Side 94 - No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bosom of his father and his God.
Side 307 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Side 341 - MINE eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored ; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword : His truth is marching on.
Side 328 - The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
Side 171 - One touch to her hand and one word in her ear, When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! 'She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow,
Side 88 - 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 afield ! How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke...
Side 323 - For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead.