Select specimens of English poetryLongman, Brown, Green, & Longmans, 1856 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 74.
Pàgina vii
... rests satisfied with the dead letter of the poem , and does not inspire his pupil with its living spirit performs but half the business of education . It is true that some of these poems , and parts of many of them , appeal to higher ...
... rests satisfied with the dead letter of the poem , and does not inspire his pupil with its living spirit performs but half the business of education . It is true that some of these poems , and parts of many of them , appeal to higher ...
Pàgina 2
... rest , With his martial cloak around him . Few and short were the prayers we said , And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead , 3 And we bitterly thought of the morrow . We thought , as we ...
... rest , With his martial cloak around him . Few and short were the prayers we said , And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead , 3 And we bitterly thought of the morrow . We thought , as we ...
Pàgina 13
... rest his head . " With fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide ; And many a childing mother then And new - born baby died . But things like that , you know , must be At every famous victory . " They say it was a ...
... rest his head . " With fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide ; And many a childing mother then And new - born baby died . But things like that , you know , must be At every famous victory . " They say it was a ...
Pàgina 15
... rest : When summer's throned on high , And the world's warm breast is in verdure dress'd , Go , stand on the hill where they lie . The earliest ray of the golden day On that hallow'd spot is cast ; And the evening sun , as he leaves the ...
... rest : When summer's throned on high , And the world's warm breast is in verdure dress'd , Go , stand on the hill where they lie . The earliest ray of the golden day On that hallow'd spot is cast ; And the evening sun , as he leaves the ...
Pàgina 22
... rest , And I to my cavern repair . There is mercy in every place ; And mercy ( encouraging thought ! ) Gives even affliction a grace , And reconciles man to his lot . 1. Supply the ellipsis in this line . 2. Centre of what ? 3. What ...
... rest , And I to my cavern repair . There is mercy in every place ; And mercy ( encouraging thought ! ) Gives even affliction a grace , And reconciles man to his lot . 1. Supply the ellipsis in this line . 2. Centre of what ? 3. What ...
Continguts
1 | |
15 | |
51 | |
57 | |
63 | |
66 | |
70 | |
75 | |
220 | |
227 | |
233 | |
239 | |
251 | |
297 | |
305 | |
321 | |
79 | |
95 | |
115 | |
123 | |
152 | |
168 | |
181 | |
187 | |
193 | |
199 | |
214 | |
327 | |
341 | |
347 | |
354 | |
384 | |
391 | |
401 | |
413 | |
17 | |
21 | |
Frases i termes més freqüents
Arouse thee BARRY CORNWALL battle BATTLE OF KILLIECRANKIE beauty beneath BERNARD BARTON birds bless blow brave breast breath bright cheer Cleon clouds dark dead death deep delight Derivations doth dread dream earth ELIZA COOK ellipsis England English Poetry Etymology father fear feel flowers geography give glorious glory glow grave green Greenwich Hospital hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour human HUMPHREY GILBERT John Herschel king labour land light live look Lord mighty mind morning mountains nature never night noble o'er ocean Patrick Spence peace pleasure Pompey prayer rocks round RUNNEMEDE sail Samian wine shine ship shore sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star storm sweet Syntax tear tempest thine things thought toil Twas voice waves wild wind wings words youth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 49 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed. The mustering squadron, and the clattering car. Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war...
Pàgina 194 - And sweep through the deep While the stormy winds do blow, — While the battle rages loud and long And the stormy winds do blow ! The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave : For the deck it was their field of fame, And ocean was their grave. Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep While the stormy winds do blow, — While the battle rages loud and long And the stormy winds do blow.
Pàgina 39 - And his droop'd head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won. He heard it, but he heeded not — his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away...
Pàgina 281 - We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Pàgina 274 - Man that is born of a woman Is of few days, and full of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down : He fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not.
Pàgina 337 - For a thousand years in thy sight Are but as yesterday when it is past, And as a watch in the night. Thou carriest them away as with a flood ; they are as a sleep : In the morning they are like grass which groweth up. In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up ; In the evening it is cut down, and withereth.
Pàgina 352 - And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow : and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou not that we perish ? 39 And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.
Pàgina 75 - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
Pàgina 124 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes.
Pàgina 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 ! ODE TO MERCY.