Jewels Gathered from Painter & PoetCassell, Petter, and Galpin, 1865 - 79 pagina's |
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Pagina 15
... hope too long deferr❜d . He's pining for his native seas , And for his native shore ; All but his honour he would give To be at home once more . He does not know his children's face ; His wife might pass him by , He is so alter'd , did ...
... hope too long deferr❜d . He's pining for his native seas , And for his native shore ; All but his honour he would give To be at home once more . He does not know his children's face ; His wife might pass him by , He is so alter'd , did ...
Pagina 24
... hope must dwell In the precious name she loved so well ; And her troubles all seem'd o'er . Now Gilbert à Becket was dwelling there , Like a merchant - prince was he ; His gardens were wide , and his halls were fair ; His servants ...
... hope must dwell In the precious name she loved so well ; And her troubles all seem'd o'er . Now Gilbert à Becket was dwelling there , Like a merchant - prince was he ; His gardens were wide , and his halls were fair ; His servants ...
Pagina 29
... hope through good and ill , When other hope is gone ; Shall she who loves so well be still , And he in prison groan ? C. GRAY She felt within her inmost heart A strange bewilder'd swell. 29.
... hope through good and ill , When other hope is gone ; Shall she who loves so well be still , And he in prison groan ? C. GRAY She felt within her inmost heart A strange bewilder'd swell. 29.
Pagina 31
... hope were gone ; For Wenzel is in prison dead , His captive sorrows done . Then on her face what woe was set ! Yet still she spun and spun , As if her hands could not forget The work they had begun . And still beside th ' accustomed ...
... hope were gone ; For Wenzel is in prison dead , His captive sorrows done . Then on her face what woe was set ! Yet still she spun and spun , As if her hands could not forget The work they had begun . And still beside th ' accustomed ...
Pagina 53
... Hope And dire Remembrance interlope To vex the feverish slumbers of the mind : The bubble floats before , the spectre stalks behind . But me thy gentle hand will lead At morning through the accustom'd mead ; And in the sultry summer's ...
... Hope And dire Remembrance interlope To vex the feverish slumbers of the mind : The bubble floats before , the spectre stalks behind . But me thy gentle hand will lead At morning through the accustom'd mead ; And in the sultry summer's ...
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Jewels Gathered from Painter and Poet: A Selection of Poems (Classic Reprint) William James Linton Geen voorbeeld beschikbaar - 2016 |
Jewels Gathered from Painter and Poet. a Selection of Poems W. J. (William James) Linton Geen voorbeeld beschikbaar - 2012 |
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
Abra loved adieu ADMIRAL COLLINGWOOD beauteous beneath bird bless brave bright brow calm chidden child Christmas cried Cumnor Hall dear deep dream earth English Merchant eyes fair faithful band fear flax flowers gazed gentle Georgian maid GEORGIAN SULTANA Gilbert à Becket golden grew grove hair hand happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven Hermit Ho ho ho Holy Land hour I-have king lonely look'd maid like Abra maiden merry minstrel Minstrel's Curse morn N. P. WILLIS ne'er night O-had-I o'er pass'd post and pair prayer pride rose round royal Abbas moved Saracen Lady seem'd shade shine Sir Jonathan Trelawny SIR WALTER SCOTT smile soft song soul spake Spinning Maiden's Cross stands Suffolk yeoman sung sweet tears thee thine thou thought throne Trelawny Twas voice W. J. LINTON wander'd wandering wave wild wing youth like royal Zarina
Populaire passages
Pagina 57 - The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Pagina 78 - From harmony, from heavenly harmony, This universal frame began : When Nature underneath a heap Of jarring atoms lay, And could not heave her head, The tuneful voice was heard from high, Arise, ye more than dead.
Pagina 57 - 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.
Pagina 70 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes; As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
Pagina 79 - Excites us to arms With shrill notes of anger And mortal alarms. The double, double, double beat Of the thundering drum Cries: "Hark! the foes come; Charge, charge, 'tis too late to retreat!
Pagina 13 - What time the daisy decks the green, Thy certain voice we hear ; Hast thou a star to guide thy path, Or mark the rolling year I Delightful visitant ! with thee I hail the time of flowers, And hear the sound of music sweet From birds among the bowers.
Pagina 5 - Know'st thou not me ?" the Deep Voice cried ; " So long enjoyed, so oft misused, — Alternate, in thy fickle pride, Desired, neglected, and accused ? " Before my breath, like blazing flax, Man and his marvels pass away, And changing empires wane and wax, Are founded, flourish, and decay. " Redeem mine hours — the space is brief— While in my glass the sand-grains shiver, And measureless thy joy or grief When TIME and thou shall part for ever!
Pagina 74 - The throssil whusslit in the wood, The burn sang to the trees, And we with Nature's heart in tune, Concerted harmonies ; And on the knowe abune the burn, For hours thegither sat In the silentness o' joy, till baith WT very gladness grat.
Pagina 7 - Now nought was heard beneath the skies, The sounds of busy life were still, Save an unhappy lady's sighs, That issued from that lonely pile.
Pagina 9 - How far less blest am I than them, Daily to pine and waste with care ! Like the poor plant, that, from its stem Divided, feels the chilling air. " Nor, cruel Earl ! can I enjoy The humble charms of solitude ; Your minions proud my peace destroy, By sullen frowns, or pratings rude. " Last night, as sad I chanced to stray, The village death-bell smote my ear ; They winked aside, and seemed to say : 'Countess, prepare — thy end is near.