Pictures, scriptural and historical; or, The cabinet of history1831 |
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Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Pictures, Scriptural and Historical; Or, the Cabinet of History Rose Lawrence Geen voorbeeld beschikbaar - 2016 |
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
ANNE BOLEYN arms banner battle beneath blessed BLONDEL DE NESLE blood bloom bonnie Dundee brave breast breath bright brow CARDINAL WOLSEY castle cheer crown Cumnor dark dead dear death deep dread Duke Earl Earl of Murray earth Edward England English fair farewell father fear fell flowers France gloom glory grave hand hath hear heard heart heaven hills Holy Land honours hope hour King Arthur KING HENRY light lone Lord Lord Clifford loud maid Maid of Norway Margaret of Anjou mercy morn mournful never night noble Noroway numbers o'er pale peace praise prayer pride Prince prison proud Queen rest Richard rose round sail shade shine sigh silent Sir Patrick Spens slain sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spear sweet sword tears thee thine throne tomb tower Twas voice Warwick wave weep wild winds wings
Populaire passages
Pagina 310 - 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; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar ; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star ; While throng'd the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips — " The foe ! They come they come...
Pagina 290 - YE Mariners of England That guard our native seas, Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, The battle and the breeze — Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe ! And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow — While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Pagina 282 - ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Pagina 211 - So went to bed : where eagerly his sickness Pursued him still ; and, three nights after this, About the hour of eight, (which he himself Foretold should be his last,) full of repentance, Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
Pagina 106 - FAR from the world, O Lord, I flee, From strife and tumult far ; From scenes where Satan wages still His most successful war. The calm retreat, the silent shade, With prayer and praise agree ; And seem by thy sweet bounty made For those who follow thee.
Pagina 298 - We thought as we hollowed his narrow bed And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow. Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him, — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
Pagina 51 - Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth ; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Pagina 126 - TO BLOSSOMS FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast ? Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here awhile, To blush and gently smile, And go at last.
Pagina xii - Had in her sober livery all things clad : Silence accompanied ; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale ; She all night long her amorous descant sung : Silence was pleased : now...
Pagina 167 - Stay, oh stay! nor thus forlorn Leave me unbless'd, unpitied, here to mourn: In yon bright track that fires the western skies They melt, they vanish from my eyes. But oh ! what solemn scenes on Snowdon's height Descending slow their glittering skirts unroll? Visions of glory, spare my aching sight, Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!