Songs of Three CenturiesJohn Greenleaf Whittier J.R. Osgood, 1875 - 352 sider |
Inni boken
Resultat 1-5 av 62
Side 7
... breast before : A poet's brain with finer store . He wrote of love with high conceit And beauty reared above her height . EDMUND SPENSER . [ 1553-1599 . ] ANGELIC MINISTRY . AND is there care in Heaven ? And is there love In heavenly ...
... breast before : A poet's brain with finer store . He wrote of love with high conceit And beauty reared above her height . EDMUND SPENSER . [ 1553-1599 . ] ANGELIC MINISTRY . AND is there care in Heaven ? And is there love In heavenly ...
Side 10
... breast . Enough , I reckon wealth ; A mean , the surest lot , That lies too high for base contempt , Too low for envy's shot . My wishes are but few , All easy to fulfil ; I make the limits of my power The bounds unto my will . I have ...
... breast . Enough , I reckon wealth ; A mean , the surest lot , That lies too high for base contempt , Too low for envy's shot . My wishes are but few , All easy to fulfil ; I make the limits of my power The bounds unto my will . I have ...
Side 18
... breast . LET me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments . Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds , Or bends with the remover to remove ; O no ; it is an ever - fixéd mark , That looks on tempests , and is ...
... breast . LET me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments . Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds , Or bends with the remover to remove ; O no ; it is an ever - fixéd mark , That looks on tempests , and is ...
Side 25
... breasts , Where never storms arise , Exchange ; and be awhile our guests : For stars , gaze on our eyes . The compass , love shall hourly sing , And , as he goes about the ring , We will not miss To tell each point he nameth with a kiss ...
... breasts , Where never storms arise , Exchange ; and be awhile our guests : For stars , gaze on our eyes . The compass , love shall hourly sing , And , as he goes about the ring , We will not miss To tell each point he nameth with a kiss ...
Side 29
... breast She bowed her gracious head to rest , Such a weight as no burden was . Long their fixed eyes to heaven bent , Unchanged they did never move , As if so great and pure a love No glass but it could represent . " These eyes again ...
... breast She bowed her gracious head to rest , Such a weight as no burden was . Long their fixed eyes to heaven bent , Unchanged they did never move , As if so great and pure a love No glass but it could represent . " These eyes again ...
Innhold
187 | |
197 | |
203 | |
219 | |
225 | |
231 | |
237 | |
240 | |
45 | |
51 | |
57 | |
63 | |
67 | |
73 | |
79 | |
85 | |
93 | |
97 | |
103 | |
117 | |
123 | |
126 | |
135 | |
142 | |
149 | |
153 | |
162 | |
168 | |
179 | |
246 | |
252 | |
258 | |
260 | |
270 | |
271 | |
276 | |
283 | |
288 | |
297 | |
303 | |
313 | |
319 | |
325 | |
331 | |
337 | |
345 | |
346 | |
347 | |
Andre utgaver - Vis alle
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
angels beauty BEGONE DULL CARE bells beneath bird blessed bliss bonnie Braes breast breath bright busk calm Christabel clouds dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth EDMUND SPENSER Edom eternal eyes face fair fear flowers frae Glenlogie glory golden grace grave green Grongar Hill hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill holy hour Hymn Inchcape Rock JOHN BYROM Kilmeny kiss lady land lassie light live Lochaber lonely look Lord maun mind morning mourn ne'er never night o'er praise rest rose round Saint Agnes SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE scorn shade shine shore sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars sweet tears tell thee thine thou art thought tree unto vale voice wandering waves weary weel ween weep wild WILLIAM SHENSTONE wind wings Yarrow
Populære avsnitt
Side 125 - But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. 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 unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
Side 66 - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all: And, as a bird each fond endearment tries, To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Side 209 - 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 returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Side 30 - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Side 125 - For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed; And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
Side 160 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags Plying her needle and thread — Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! In poverty, hunger and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the rich ! She sang this "Song of the Shirt.
Side 223 - Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea,
Side 37 - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Side 97 - No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay...
Side 223 - Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap, forlorn! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn!