A New Library of Poetry and Song, Volum 2William Cullen Bryant J. B. Ford, 1877 - 934 sider |
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Side 458
... flower of Burgundie ? " " God greet thee well , thou valiant king , Thee and thy belted peers , Sir James of Douglas am I called , And these are Scottish spears . " We do not fight for bond or plight , Nor yet for golden fee ; But for ...
... flower of Burgundie ? " " God greet thee well , thou valiant king , Thee and thy belted peers , Sir James of Douglas am I called , And these are Scottish spears . " We do not fight for bond or plight , Nor yet for golden fee ; But for ...
Side 475
... flowers were full in their blow ; the And the splendid lady who gave me the havelock birds , in their song and feather . for my cap . " Where lovers would come in the noon - tide , O , up from my pipe - cloud rises , there between ...
... flowers were full in their blow ; the And the splendid lady who gave me the havelock birds , in their song and feather . for my cap . " Where lovers would come in the noon - tide , O , up from my pipe - cloud rises , there between ...
Side 476
... flower - pot , rimmed with gold so neatly ! What ask you for the bowl ? " " O sir , that bowl for worlds I would not part with ; A brave man gave it me , Who won it - now what think you ? -of a bashaw At Belgrade's victory . nursed him ...
... flower - pot , rimmed with gold so neatly ! What ask you for the bowl ? " " O sir , that bowl for worlds I would not part with ; A brave man gave it me , Who won it - now what think you ? -of a bashaw At Belgrade's victory . nursed him ...
Side 483
... flowers alike on the graves of the Confederate and the National soldiers . ] By the flow of the inland river , Whence the fleets of iron have fled , Where the blades of the grave - grass quiver , Asleep are the ranks of the dead ...
... flowers alike on the graves of the Confederate and the National soldiers . ] By the flow of the inland river , Whence the fleets of iron have fled , Where the blades of the grave - grass quiver , Asleep are the ranks of the dead ...
Side 487
... flower and foliage , To sprout in a kinder air . WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT . BARCLAY OF URY . Up the streets of Aberdeen , By the kirk and college green , Rode the laird of Ury ; Close behind him , close beside , Foul of mouth and evil ...
... flower and foliage , To sprout in a kinder air . WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT . BARCLAY OF URY . Up the streets of Aberdeen , By the kirk and college green , Rode the laird of Ury ; Close behind him , close beside , Foul of mouth and evil ...
Andre utgaver - Vis alle
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
ALEXANDER POPE ALFRED TENNYSON Anne Hathaway arms beauty bells BEN JONSON beneath blessed blood blow blue brave breast breath bright brow clouds cried crown dark dead dear death Deborah Lee deep doth dream earth eyes face fair fame fear fell FITZ-GREENE HALLECK flowers frae gazed glory gold grace grave gray green hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER king land Lars Porsena light lips live look Lord LORD BYRON moon morning ne'er never nevermore night o'er Osawatomie peace roar ROBERT BURNS rock rose round shine shore silent sing sleep smile song soul sound stars steed stood stream sweet sword tears tell thee thine things thou thought thunder toil voice wave wild WILLIAM COWPER wind wings wonder
Populære avsnitt
Side 626 - Earth has not anything to show more fair : Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers,, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Side 815 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Side 556 - 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 783 - Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water everywhere Nor any drop to drink.
Side 709 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull Night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise; Then to come, in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good morrow, Through the sweet-brier, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine...
Side 461 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet — But hark!
Side 818 - Peace to all such! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires; Blest with each talent, and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease; Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
Side 723 - The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Side 709 - Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful jollity, Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek : Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go, On the light fantastic toe...
Side 657 - Hear the tolling of the bells Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people - ah, the people They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who tolling, tolling...