The Sea's Anthology: From the Earliest Times Down to the Middle of the Nineteenth Century |
Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya
No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.
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Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Sea's Anthology: From the Earliest Times Down to the Middle of the ... John Edward Patterson Visualització completa - 1913 |
The Sea's Anthology: From the Earliest Times Down to the Middle of the ... John Edward Patterson Visualització de fragments - 1913 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
ANONYMOUS appears ballad Barbarie billow blow boat bold bound boys brave bright British Captain coast crew cried dear death deck deep England English eyes fair fear fell fight fleet foam French gale gallant gave give gold hand hang haul head hear heard heart hundred keep King lady land leave light live look Lord loud mark mind morning ne'er never night o'er ocean once piece play poor rise roar rocks Rolling round sail sailor seaman seems seen ship shore side sing song soon soul sound stand storm sweet tears tell thee There's things thou thought tide took true vessel waves Whiskey wild wind young
Passatges populars
Pàgina 61 - Are those her ribs through which the sun Did peer, as through a grate ? And is that Woman all her crew ? Is that a Death ? and are there two ? Is Death that Woman's mate?
Pàgina 57 - Was tyrannous and strong; He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. With sloping masts and dipping prow — As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head — The ship drove fast; loud roared the blast. And southward aye we fled. And now there came both mist and snow And it grew wondrous cold And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald.
Pàgina 85 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below — As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow ; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Pàgina 60 - With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, We could nor laugh nor wail; Through utter drought all dumb we stood! I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, And cried, A sail ! a sail...
Pàgina 112 - TOLL for the brave! The brave that are no more ! All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore ! Eight hundred of the brave, Whose courage well was tried, Had made the vessel heel, And laid her on her side. A land breeze shook the shrouds, And she was overset ; Down went the Royal George, With all her crew complete.
Pàgina 67 - Now the wild white horses play, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. Children dear, let us away. This way, this way. Call her once before you go, Call once yet. In a voice that she will know: "Margaret ! Margaret!" Children's voices should be dear (Call once more) to a mother's ear; Children's voices, wild with pain. Surely she will come again. Call her once, and come away; This way, this way ! "Mother dear, we cannot stay. The wild white horses foam and fret.
Pàgina 287 - OF Nelson and the North Sing the glorious day's renown, When to battle fierce came forth All the might of Denmark's crown, And her arms along the deep proudly shone : By each gun the lighted brand In a bold, determined hand; And the prince of all the land Led them on.
Pàgina 169 - Colder and louder blew the wind, A gale from the northeast, The snow fell hissing in the brine, And the billows frothed like yeast. Down came the storm, and smote amain The vessel in its strength ; She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, Then leaped her cable's length. "Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale That ever wind did blow.
Pàgina 58 - And a good south wind sprung up behind ; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariner's hollo ! In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, It perched for vespers nine ; Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white, Glimmered the white Moon-shine.
Pàgina 30 - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon...
Informació bibliogràfica
| Títol | The Sea's Anthology: From the Earliest Times Down to the Middle of the Nineteenth Century |
| Editor | John Edward Patterson |
| Compilat per | John Edward Patterson |
| Editor | George H. Doran Company, 1913 |
| Original de | Biblioteca Pública de Nova York |
| Digitalitzat el | 22 Maig 2007 |
| ISBN | 0841492050, 9780841492059 |
| Nre. de pàgines | 383 pàgines |
| Exporta citacions | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |