The New Poetical ReaderJohn Charles Curtis 1872 - 160 pàgines |
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Resultats 1 - 5 de 15.
Pàgina 15
... brave , And unknown in thy lowly grave : Yet thy true heart and fearless faith , And agony of love in death God saw , and He remembereth . BREAK , BREAK , BREAK ! — Tennyson . BREAK The New Poetical Reader . 15 MARGARET WILSON.
... brave , And unknown in thy lowly grave : Yet thy true heart and fearless faith , And agony of love in death God saw , and He remembereth . BREAK , BREAK , BREAK ! — Tennyson . BREAK The New Poetical Reader . 15 MARGARET WILSON.
Pàgina 25
... brave , Wearing yet on his pale sweet face , Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave The lingering light of his boyhood's grace . Matted and damp are the curls of gold Kissing the snow of that fair young brow ; Pale are the lips of ...
... brave , Wearing yet on his pale sweet face , Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave The lingering light of his boyhood's grace . Matted and damp are the curls of gold Kissing the snow of that fair young brow ; Pale are the lips of ...
Pàgina 26
... brave and grand ; Somebody's kiss on his forehead lay , Somebody clung to his parting hand . Somebody's watching and waiting for him- Yearning to hold him again to her heart ; And there he lies with his blue eyes dim , And the smiling ...
... brave and grand ; Somebody's kiss on his forehead lay , Somebody clung to his parting hand . Somebody's watching and waiting for him- Yearning to hold him again to her heart ; And there he lies with his blue eyes dim , And the smiling ...
Pàgina 32
... bravery , Where no public virtues bloom ? What avail in lands of slavery Trophied temples , arch , and tomb ? Pageants ! -let the world revere us For our people's rights and laws , And the breasts of civic heroes Bared in Freedom's holy ...
... bravery , Where no public virtues bloom ? What avail in lands of slavery Trophied temples , arch , and tomb ? Pageants ! -let the world revere us For our people's rights and laws , And the breasts of civic heroes Bared in Freedom's holy ...
Pàgina 36
... , Safe in the hollow of His hand , To brave the mighty sea ! WEARINESS Can snore upon the flint , when resty sloth Finds the down pillow hard . Shakspeare . THE GOLDEN KEY - A PARABLE . G. Macdonald . 36 The New Poetical Reader .
... , Safe in the hollow of His hand , To brave the mighty sea ! WEARINESS Can snore upon the flint , when resty sloth Finds the down pillow hard . Shakspeare . THE GOLDEN KEY - A PARABLE . G. Macdonald . 36 The New Poetical Reader .
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Frases i termes més freqüents
Angel arms bear beneath blood brave breath bright child Church cloud crown dark dead dear death deep died dream earth England eyes face fair fall fear feel feet field flower give grace grave green hall hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hill hope keep King land late leaves light living look Lord lost meet morning mother mountain Nature ne'er never night o'er once pass past play rain rest rise rock roll rose round shine shore sight silence sing sleep smile song soul sound spirit stand stars stone stream strong sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought thunder Till trees turned voice watch wave weep wild wind
Passatges populars
Pàgina 136 - Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touched his body, that did stab, And not for justice ? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
Pàgina 93 - Ye Ice-falls ! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain — Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge ! Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts ! Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? — God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer ! and let the ice-plains echo,...
Pàgina 138 - I could weep My spirit from mine eyes ! There is my dagger, And here my naked breast; within, a heart Dearer than Plutus...
Pàgina 92 - Thou first and chief, sole sovereign of the Vale ! O struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky or when they sink...
Pàgina 24 - That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure; For often, at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing 1 And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell ; Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well — The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket arose from the well.
Pàgina 109 - — and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone ; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets
Pàgina 105 - Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend. But is there for the night a resting-place? A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face? You cannot miss that inn.
Pàgina 107 - I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he ; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three ; " Good speed ! " cried the watch, as the gatebolts undrew ; "Speed...
Pàgina 122 - The sun was gone now ; the curled moon Was like a little feather Fluttering far down the gulf ; and now She spoke through the still weather. Her voice was like the voice the stars Had when they sang together.
Pàgina 70 - OH, TO BE in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England - now...