Odes and Sonnets, IllustratedD. Appleton, 1859 - 107 pagina's |
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Pagina 4
... BREATHE NOT LOVE Now THE BRIGHT MORNING STAR TO MEADOWS THE MERRY CUCKOW FAIR IS THE RISING MORN GIVE ME A COTTAGE Now THE GOLDEN MORN ALOFT TO THE RIVER TRENT Warton . 44 Smollett 45 Sir Philip Sidney 175 47 Milton 48 Herrick 66 DURING ...
... BREATHE NOT LOVE Now THE BRIGHT MORNING STAR TO MEADOWS THE MERRY CUCKOW FAIR IS THE RISING MORN GIVE ME A COTTAGE Now THE GOLDEN MORN ALOFT TO THE RIVER TRENT Warton . 44 Smollett 45 Sir Philip Sidney 175 47 Milton 48 Herrick 66 DURING ...
Pagina 23
... breathe some soften'd strain , Whose numbers stealing through thy dark'ning vale , May not unseemly with its stillness suit , As , musing slow , I hail Thy genial loved return ! 1 For when thy folding - star arising shows His 23 ODES ...
... breathe some soften'd strain , Whose numbers stealing through thy dark'ning vale , May not unseemly with its stillness suit , As , musing slow , I hail Thy genial loved return ! 1 For when thy folding - star arising shows His 23 ODES ...
Pagina 25
... breathing tresses , meekest Eve ! While Summer loves to sport Beneath thy lingering light : While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves , Or Winter , yellow through the troublous air , Affrights thy shrinking train , And rudely rends ...
... breathing tresses , meekest Eve ! While Summer loves to sport Beneath thy lingering light : While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves , Or Winter , yellow through the troublous air , Affrights thy shrinking train , And rudely rends ...
Pagina 26
... breathe his native air , In his own ground . Whose herds with milk , whose fields with bread , Whose flocks supply him with attire , Whose trees in summer yield him shade , In winter fire . Blest , who can unconcern'dly find Hours ...
... breathe his native air , In his own ground . Whose herds with milk , whose fields with bread , Whose flocks supply him with attire , Whose trees in summer yield him shade , In winter fire . Blest , who can unconcern'dly find Hours ...
Pagina 32
... breath perfumés . Both those and these my Cælia's pretty foot Trod up - but if she should her face display , And fragrant breast - they ' d dry again to the root , As with the blasting of the mid - day's ray ; And this soft wind , which ...
... breath perfumés . Both those and these my Cælia's pretty foot Trod up - but if she should her face display , And fragrant breast - they ' d dry again to the root , As with the blasting of the mid - day's ray ; And this soft wind , which ...
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
airy BAMPFYLDE beam bids bloom bough bowers breath breeze BRIGHT MORNING STAR buds calm CHARLOTTE SMITH clouds cowslips DAISY dance dear delight dewy dost doth drest DRUMMOND EARL OF SURREY fair flocks flowers fragrant gale give my love gleam gray green grove hail HARVEST MOON hast hath hear heart heaven HENRY KIRKE WHITE HERRICK hills light lone love good-morrow lovers May-pole mead meadows MILTON MOON of harvest morn MOUNTAIN DAISY murmur Muse nature's Neath night NIGHTINGALE ODES AND SONNETS pale peace pensive purple REDBREAST rill RIVER TRENT robe rose round rove rustic shade SHAKSPEARE shrill sigh silent sing SIR PHILIP SIDNEY smile soft song sorrow SOUTHEY Spenser Spring star Stella storm stream Sweet bird TEMPEST thee thine Thou merry month thro THRUSH thy modest trembling vale wake wander warbles Warton waves wild winds wing WINSLADE Winter woods WORDSWORTH
Populaire passages
Pagina 26 - midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or if chill blustering winds, or driving rain, Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut, That from the mountain's side, Views wilds, and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discovered spires, And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil.
Pagina 18 - FLY, envious Time, till thou run out thy race, Call on the lazy, leaden-stepping hours, Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace, And glut thyself with what thy womb devours, Which is no more than what is false and vain, And merely mortal dross; So little is our loss, So little is thy gain.
Pagina 26 - Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge, And sheds the freshening dew, and, lovelier still, The pensive pleasures sweet, Prepare thy shadowy car. Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene, Or find some ruin 'midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams.
Pagina 25 - If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, May hope, chaste eve, to soothe thy modest ear, Like thy own solemn springs, Thy springs, and dying gales...
Pagina 106 - A gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold; A belt of straw and ivy buds With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Pagina 12 - The schoolboy, wandering through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts, the new voice of Spring to hear, And imitates thy lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom Thou fliest thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another Spring to hail. Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year ! O, could I fly, I'd fly with thee!
Pagina 94 - I'll borrow. Wake from thy nest, robin redbreast, Sing birds in every furrow ; And from each hill, let music shrill Give my fair Love good-morrow ! Blackbird and thrush in every bush, Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow ! You pretty elves, amongst yourselves Sing my fair Love good-morrow ; To give my Love good-morrow Sing birds in every furrow ! T.
Pagina 90 - Sleepless ! and soon the small birds' melodies Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees ; And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry. Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay, And could not win thee, Sleep ! by any stealth : So do not let me wear...
Pagina 94 - Sweet air, blow soft ; mount, lark, aloft To give my Love good-morrow ! Wings from the wind to please her mind, Notes from the lark I'll borrow : Bird, prune thy wing ! nightingale, sing ! To give my Love good-morrow ! To give my Love good-morrow Notes from them all I'll borrow.
Pagina 27 - Winter yelling through the troublous air, Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes : So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, Thy gentlest influence own, And love thy favourite name ! ODE TO PEACE.