The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language: Selected and Arranged with NotesMacmillan and Company, 1861 - 346 sider |
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Side 23
... sounds approve , Which wont in such harmonious strains to flow , Is reft from Earth to tune those spheres above , What ... sound draws forth a tear ; For which be silent as in woods before : Or if that any hand to touch thee deign , Like ...
... sounds approve , Which wont in such harmonious strains to flow , Is reft from Earth to tune those spheres above , What ... sound draws forth a tear ; For which be silent as in woods before : Or if that any hand to touch thee deign , Like ...
Side 42
... universal peace through sea and land . No war , or battle's sound Was heard the world around : The idle spear and shield were high up hung ; The hooked chariot stood Unstain'd with hostile blood ; The trumpet spake not to 42 Book.
... universal peace through sea and land . No war , or battle's sound Was heard the world around : The idle spear and shield were high up hung ; The hooked chariot stood Unstain'd with hostile blood ; The trumpet spake not to 42 Book.
Side 44
... sound Beneath the hollow round Of Cynthia's seat the aery region thrilling , Now was almost won To think her part was done , And that her reign had here its last fulfilling ; She knew such harmony alone Could hold all heaven and earth ...
... sound Beneath the hollow round Of Cynthia's seat the aery region thrilling , Now was almost won To think her part was done , And that her reign had here its last fulfilling ; She knew such harmony alone Could hold all heaven and earth ...
Side 46
... sound Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint ; And the chill marble seems to sweat , While each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted seat . Peor and Baalim Forsake their temples dim , With that twice - batter'd god of Palestine ...
... sound Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint ; And the chill marble seems to sweat , While each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted seat . Peor and Baalim Forsake their temples dim , With that twice - batter'd god of Palestine ...
Side 48
... sound . Less than a God they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell That spoke so sweetly and so well . What passion cannot Music raise and quell ? The trumpet's loud clangor Excites us to arms , With shrill notes ...
... sound . Less than a God they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell That spoke so sweetly and so well . What passion cannot Music raise and quell ? The trumpet's loud clangor Excites us to arms , With shrill notes ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
Arethuse art thou beauty behold beneath birds blest bonnie bower breast breath bright Brignall brow cheek clouds County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dream earth ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA eyes fair Fancy fear flowers frae gentle glory golden green greenwood tree happy hast hath Hazeldean hear heard heart heaven hills John Anderson Kirconnell kiss ladies leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Byron love's lover Lycidas lyre maid mind morn mountains Muse ne'er never night Nymph o'er P. B. Shelley pale passion Pindar pleasure poems Poetry Poets Rosaline rose round Rule Britannia seem'd shade Shakespeare shore sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star stream sweet tears thee There's thine thou art thought tree Twas voice waly waly waves weep wild winds wings Wordsworth Yarrow youth
Populære passager
Side 144 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
Side 117 - 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 241 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be; Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee; Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety. Waking or asleep, Thou of death must deem Things more true and deep Than we mortals dream, Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?
Side 58 - Through the dear might of Him that walked the waves, Where other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the Saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Side 143 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. 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...
Side 199 - ONE word is too often profaned For me to profane it, One feeling too falsely disdained For thee to disdain it; One hope is too like despair For prudence to smother, And pity from thee more dear Than that from another. 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 257 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft, And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Side 301 - My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began ; So is it now I am a man ; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The child is father of the man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
Side 17 - In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self that seals up all in rest. In me thou seest the glowing of such fire That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that which it was nourished by. This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong. To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
Side 240 - Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not : Like a high-born maiden In a palace tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower : Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view.