Friendship's Gift: A Souvenir for 1848Walter Percival John P. Hill, 1848 - 312 pàgines |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 14.
Pàgina 19
... play by the sea- shore . the steady roar perpetual chiming What , Will ! Will , I say ! why , what's the boy dreamin ' about , now ? Wake up , Will ! wake up ! Thou ' lt never be a man , boy , an ' thou spendest thy days half asleep i ...
... play by the sea- shore . the steady roar perpetual chiming What , Will ! Will , I say ! why , what's the boy dreamin ' about , now ? Wake up , Will ! wake up ! Thou ' lt never be a man , boy , an ' thou spendest thy days half asleep i ...
Pàgina 21
... play - Robin Goodfellow , astride of a swift dolphin , with gold and blue burnished scales - mighty ships , holding on their way , with the instinct of birds , to the ends of the earthstars , dropping fire - and the great Sea flashing ...
... play - Robin Goodfellow , astride of a swift dolphin , with gold and blue burnished scales - mighty ships , holding on their way , with the instinct of birds , to the ends of the earthstars , dropping fire - and the great Sea flashing ...
Pàgina 30
... play ; and the chips flew , and the threads ran like fire , hither and thither , among the agitated clouds , and I saw great blocks of marble changing their shape , when there was nobody near ; and harps , playing in the sky to ...
... play ; and the chips flew , and the threads ran like fire , hither and thither , among the agitated clouds , and I saw great blocks of marble changing their shape , when there was nobody near ; and harps , playing in the sky to ...
Pàgina 63
... under the greenwood tree . Oh , how they laughed in the brave old world , And flung grim care away ! And when they were tired of working , They held it time to play . The bookman was a reverend wight , With a studious THE OLD WORLD . 63.
... under the greenwood tree . Oh , how they laughed in the brave old world , And flung grim care away ! And when they were tired of working , They held it time to play . The bookman was a reverend wight , With a studious THE OLD WORLD . 63.
Pàgina 109
... play upon the minds of his fellow beings , by addressing their hopes and fears through the me- dium of imagination . I could not now relate the thousand anecdotes I have heard in illustration of the force of this propensity in him . The ...
... play upon the minds of his fellow beings , by addressing their hopes and fears through the me- dium of imagination . I could not now relate the thousand anecdotes I have heard in illustration of the force of this propensity in him . The ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Friendship's Gift: A Souvenir for 1848 (Classic Reprint) Walter Percival Previsualització no disponible - 2017 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
ancholy Anne Hathaway answered the black Arch of Titus Barker Bearcamp Bearcamp river beautiful beneath Berenice Bill Mink birds black fellow bosom Bowgun brave old world breast breath bright Campton Carl crowd death door dream earth eyes face fair father fear feel flaming shell flowers friends gaze gentleman girl grave hand happy haunted ground head hear heard heart heaven hill hope Horace Walpole hour knew ladies land light lips live look Ludovic Margaret Burnside Martha mind Moorside morning mother murderer never night night in heaven o'er once pace keep parish passed poor prayer rest round seemed shadow Shakspeare Silent Woman sleep smile song soon soul spirit stood story summer sweet tears thee things thou thought touched tree voice walk weep William Barker wind words young
Passatges populars
Pàgina 296 - That orbed maiden, with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the Moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn ; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind...
Pàgina 273 - All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve! She leant against the armed man.
Pàgina 275 - The music and the doleful tale, The rich and balmy eve ; And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, An undistinguishable throng, And gentle wishes long subdued, Subdued and cherished long. She wept with pity and delight, She blushed with love, and virgin shame ; And like the murmur of a dream, I heard her breathe my name. Her bosom heaved, — she stepped aside, As conscious of my look she stept, — Then suddenly, with timorous eye She fled to me and wept.
Pàgina 297 - I am the daughter of earth and water, And the nursling of the sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I can not die. For after the rain, when with never a stain The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air...
Pàgina 296 - The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes, And his burning plumes outspread, Leaps on the back of my sailing rack...
Pàgina 276 - twas a bashful art, That I might rather feel, than see, The swelling of her heart.
Pàgina 196 - This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year : Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal Boy! This can unlock the gates of Joy; Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic Tears.
Pàgina 253 - Ines" had always, for me, an inexpressible charm: O saw ye not fair Ines! She's gone into the West, To dazzle when the sun is down, And rob the world of rest...
Pàgina 295 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Pàgina 254 - ... been a beauteous dream, If it had been no more ! Alas, alas, fair Ines, She went away with song ; With Music waiting on her steps, And shoutings of the throng. But some were sad and felt no mirth, But only Music's wrong, In sounds that sang Farewell, Farewell, To her you've loved so long. Farewell, farewell, fair Ines, That vessel never bore So fair a lady on its deck, Nor danced so light before, — Alas for pleasure on the sea, And sorrow on the shore ! The smile that blest one lover's heart...