Friendship's Offering: And Winter's Wreath: a Christmas and New Year's PresentSmith, Elder, 1829 |
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Strona xii
... . A Spring Morning . By John Clare .... Verses to a Beloved Young Friend . By the Ettrick Shepherd ...... A Voice from Sea . By William Kennedy , Esq . .... 417 ...... 419 THE FIRST LEAF OF AN ALBUM . BY JAMES MONTGOMERY xii CONTENTS .
... . A Spring Morning . By John Clare .... Verses to a Beloved Young Friend . By the Ettrick Shepherd ...... A Voice from Sea . By William Kennedy , Esq . .... 417 ...... 419 THE FIRST LEAF OF AN ALBUM . BY JAMES MONTGOMERY xii CONTENTS .
Strona 2
... voice , but touch the ear . Yet humble Prose with these shall stand ; Friends , kindred , comrades , hand in hand , All in this fair enclosure meet , The Lady of the Book to greet , And , with the pen or pencil , make These leaves love ...
... voice , but touch the ear . Yet humble Prose with these shall stand ; Friends , kindred , comrades , hand in hand , All in this fair enclosure meet , The Lady of the Book to greet , And , with the pen or pencil , make These leaves love ...
Strona 3
... voice and string is done . Yet once was Syria's hill and grove The seat of beauty , pomp , and love : And by the swift Orontes ' tide Roved many a maiden falcon - eyed ; And many a minstrel told the tale That turned her cheek of roses ...
... voice and string is done . Yet once was Syria's hill and grove The seat of beauty , pomp , and love : And by the swift Orontes ' tide Roved many a maiden falcon - eyed ; And many a minstrel told the tale That turned her cheek of roses ...
Strona 6
... voice hath died away , Whence music , like sweet waters , gushed , But yesterday . The wakening note , the breeze - like swell , The full o'ersweeping tone , The sounds that sighed " Farewell ! farewell ! " Are gone -- all gone . The ...
... voice hath died away , Whence music , like sweet waters , gushed , But yesterday . The wakening note , the breeze - like swell , The full o'ersweeping tone , The sounds that sighed " Farewell ! farewell ! " Are gone -- all gone . The ...
Strona 19
... voice the minstrel throng : For NATURE is the nurse to whom belong Alike the thrush that cheers the broomy dale , And the proud swan that , on bold pinions strong , Through the far tracts of ether dares to sail , And pours ' mid scenes ...
... voice the minstrel throng : For NATURE is the nurse to whom belong Alike the thrush that cheers the broomy dale , And the proud swan that , on bold pinions strong , Through the far tracts of ether dares to sail , And pours ' mid scenes ...
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Achmet Allah Allan Allaster arms bastinado beauty blessed bosom bower brave breast breath bright brow Camilla Castle Campbell Cauth cheek clouds Danby dark daughter dear Deleval door dream earth Engraved eyes fair farewell father fear feel fell flowers gaze Gemara gentle glance gleam Grumblethorpe hand happy happy feet hath head heard heart heaven Hervey hope hour Isabelle JOHN CLARE Ketkhodah Khan lady land light look Mary Hamilton mind MINSTREL BOY Mishna morning mountain Nachaman Nannie Nazir never night o'er Pacha Painted pale passed PATRICK FRASER TYTLER Rabbi returned rose round Sanhedrin scene seemed sherbet sigh silent smile song soul sound spirit Stranger stream Suli Bey sweet Talmud tears tell thee thine thing THOMAS PRINGLE thou thought told trembling truth turn village voice wild words YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY young youth
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 155 - Take care of the pence and the pounds will take care of themselves is as true of personal habits as of money.
Strona 339 - But man dieth, and wasteth away; yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is he? "As the waters fail from the sea, and the flood decayeth and drieth up, 12 so man lieth down, and riseth not; till the heavens be no more, they shall not awake, nor be raised out of their sleep.
Strona 336 - THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES. I HAVE had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days, All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have been laughing, I have been carousing, Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies, All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
Strona 336 - Seeking to find the old familiar faces. Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother, Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling? So might we talk of the old familiar faces. How some they have died, and some they have left me, And some are taken from me ; all are departed ; All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
Strona 89 - They are soonest with her in the woods, Peeping, the withered leaves among, To find the earliest fragrant thing That dares from the cold earth to spring, Or catch the earliest wM* bim s sotva.
Strona 165 - The stranger's red strand, And won him the glory Of undying song. Keen cleaver of gay crests, Sharp piercer of broad breasts, Grim slayer of heroes, And scourge of the strong. FAME GIVER! I kiss thee. In a love more abiding Than that the heart knows, For maiden more lovely Than summer's first rose, My heart's knit to thine, And lives but for thee; In dreamings of gladness, Thou'rt dancing with me, Brave measures of madness In some battle-field, Where armour is ringing, And noble blood springing,...
Strona 87 - The kindest and the happiest p"air Will find occasion to forbear; And something, every day they live, To pity, and perhaps forgive.
Strona 2 - As in a glass, itself may find. And may the Poet's verse, alike, With all the power of painting strike, So freely, so divinely trace In every line,
Strona 325 - These beauteous forms, Through a long absence, have not been to me As is a landscape to a blind man's eye : But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din Of towns and cities, I have owed to them In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart; And passing even into my purer mind. With tranquil restoration...
Strona 1 - Two lovely sisters here unite To blend improvement with delight; Painting and poetry engage By turns to deck the Album's page. Here may each glowing picture be The quintessence of Poesy, With skill SO exquisitely wrought. As if the colors were pure thought, — Thought from the bosom's inmost cell. By magic lints made visible, That, while the eye admires, the mind Itself, as in a glass, may find.