Woodcuts and VersesPrinted at the private Press of Lee Priory; by John Warwick., 1820 - 116 sider |
Inni boken
Resultat 1-5 av 12
Side 14
... grace , To know the heaven - begot : Save those , the warm of heart and mind , The rest beheld thee , and were blind ; They heard , and own'd thee not . Ode to the Muse . In vain thy glorious voice. ODE TO THE MUSE . When no dangers molest ...
... grace , To know the heaven - begot : Save those , the warm of heart and mind , The rest beheld thee , and were blind ; They heard , and own'd thee not . Ode to the Muse . In vain thy glorious voice. ODE TO THE MUSE . When no dangers molest ...
Side 29
... grace that to his eye display'd The secret human breast . These , with that wreath of green combining , And with a chasten'd radiance shining , Compose thine antique crown : O teach us by their blended light To see the hearts of others ...
... grace that to his eye display'd The secret human breast . These , with that wreath of green combining , And with a chasten'd radiance shining , Compose thine antique crown : O teach us by their blended light To see the hearts of others ...
Side 45
... grace On Latmus listen'd to the Boy she loved ; Touched by her serious beam The pale hills sadly smiled . Soon through those rustling lilachs I beheld A shape of beauty glide in robes of white : Hither her steps were bent ; And , ere ...
... grace On Latmus listen'd to the Boy she loved ; Touched by her serious beam The pale hills sadly smiled . Soon through those rustling lilachs I beheld A shape of beauty glide in robes of white : Hither her steps were bent ; And , ere ...
Side 81
... or late , must fall ; But the green wreaths in Learning's bowers entwined Will grace the tomb , as o'er yon Chapel - wall The clustering ivy spreads its rich enduring pall . FROM the wing of young Love , as on roses. Sudeley Castle. ...
... or late , must fall ; But the green wreaths in Learning's bowers entwined Will grace the tomb , as o'er yon Chapel - wall The clustering ivy spreads its rich enduring pall . FROM the wing of young Love , as on roses. Sudeley Castle. ...
Side 89
... or woe , Thy Sons their steady truth will shew To Her who first with grace divine Taught them to love the Cross's Sign , And plant it far , on rock and sod , In honour of the Saviour - God . 1 O WHY is thy brow , young Knight ,
... or woe , Thy Sons their steady truth will shew To Her who first with grace divine Taught them to love the Cross's Sign , And plant it far , on rock and sod , In honour of the Saviour - God . 1 O WHY is thy brow , young Knight ,
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Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
ancient Greece Avondale Avonmore beauty beguiling Bird bloom bowers breathe brow Brydges Calydonian Boar Cephisus charm cheek Clifton Halls crown dance daughter divine dreams Dunluce Castle e'en enchanted eyes Fair Bridges fair Lee Fairy all day Fan softly Fancy Fancy's fane Farewell to Lee feet flowers gale gentle Lady fair Goddess golden grace green sunny isle grove heart Herodotus hill hopes hunting the Fairy Keivin's Lapwing Lee Priory light Lord Chandos loved the Moon lovelier Lydian stream Maid that loved Medusa melancholy mellow merry in Clifton Monksdale Muse Nightingale Notes Nymph o'er Parian marble pensive pleasure Plutarch poet poetical pride Printer private Press proud Queen rocky shine sing smile song SONNET Soul spirit springs Stanza Sudeley Castle sung sweet sylvan tall Bird thine thou art Thucydides thy harp thy wall vale Vartrey verse voice wander warble wild wild-daisy wings wood Xenophon young Gleaner youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 131 - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung : There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! TO MERCY.
Side 133 - Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely! Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy To kings that fear their subjects
Side 133 - God ! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run: How many make the hour full complete; How many hours bring about the day ; How many days will finish up the year; How many years a mortal man may live.
Side 133 - When he had better far have stretched his limbs Beside a brook in mossy forest-dell, By sun or moon-light, to the influxes Of shapes and sounds and shifting elements Surrendering his whole spirit, of his song And of his fame forgetful ! so his fame Should share in Nature's immortality, A venerable thing ! and so his song Should make all Nature lovelier, and itself Be loved like Nature...
Side 133 - A different lore : we may not thus profane Nature's sweet voices, always full of love And joyance ! 'Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes; As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
Side 133 - Should share in Nature's immortality, A venerable thing! and so his song Should make all Nature lovelier, and itself Be loved like Nature! But 'twill not be...
Side 133 - Careering round, Joy wings his feet, Joy lifts him from the ground! Pointing to such, well might Cornelia say, When the rich casket shone in bright array,
Side 133 - And she hath watched Many a nightingale perch giddily On blossomy twig still swinging from the breeze, And to that motion tune his wanton song Like tipsy joy that reels with tossing head.
Side 133 - twill not be so; And youths and maidens most poetical, Who lose the deepening twilights of the spring In ball-rooms and hot theatres, they still Full of meek sympathy must heave their sighs O'er Philomela's pity-pleading strains.
Side 41 - Culling flowers of rhyme. Fancy's children, ever heedless, Why thus bribe the hours ? Death to prove the trouble needless Withers all your flowers ; Why then bribe the hours ? Like the sand so fast retreating, Thus your hopes shall fall ; Life and fame are just as fleeting ; Poets, flowers, and all...