Popular Poetry: a Selection of Pieces Old and New, Adapted for General UseBurns & Lambert, 1862 - 220 |
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Strona 12
... waves in gold . To nature's God with joy we raise The grateful song , the hymn of praise ' The valleys echo to the strains Of blooming maids and viilage swains- To Him they tune the lay sincere , Whose bounty crowns the smiling year ...
... waves in gold . To nature's God with joy we raise The grateful song , the hymn of praise ' The valleys echo to the strains Of blooming maids and viilage swains- To Him they tune the lay sincere , Whose bounty crowns the smiling year ...
Strona 19
... wave it raised , As it sped the wide world round . Where it listeth there it bloweth , The wilful , wayward wind ; Whence it cometh , where it goeth , And its dwelling who shall find ? 66 It whistleth , it crieth , 99 As begging 20 ...
... wave it raised , As it sped the wide world round . Where it listeth there it bloweth , The wilful , wayward wind ; Whence it cometh , where it goeth , And its dwelling who shall find ? 66 It whistleth , it crieth , 99 As begging 20 ...
Strona 20
... wave it raised , As it sped the wide world round . Where it listeth there it bloweth , The wilful , wayward wind ; Whence it cometh , where it goeth , And its dwelling who shall find ? 66 It whistleth , it crieth , As begging it 20 20 ...
... wave it raised , As it sped the wide world round . Where it listeth there it bloweth , The wilful , wayward wind ; Whence it cometh , where it goeth , And its dwelling who shall find ? 66 It whistleth , it crieth , As begging it 20 20 ...
Strona 36
... clouds . THE WIND . Alexander Smith . THE wind , it is a mystic thing , Wand'ring o'er ocean wide ; And fanning all the thousand sails That o'er its billows glide . It curls the blue waves into foam , It snaps 36 POPULAR POETRY .
... clouds . THE WIND . Alexander Smith . THE wind , it is a mystic thing , Wand'ring o'er ocean wide ; And fanning all the thousand sails That o'er its billows glide . It curls the blue waves into foam , It snaps 36 POPULAR POETRY .
Strona 37
Popular poetry. It curls the blue waves into foam , It snaps the strongest mast , Then , like a sorrowing thing , it sighs When the wild storm is past . And yet how gently does it come At ev'ning through the bow'rs , As if it said a kind ...
Popular poetry. It curls the blue waves into foam , It snaps the strongest mast , Then , like a sorrowing thing , it sighs When the wild storm is past . And yet how gently does it come At ev'ning through the bow'rs , As if it said a kind ...
Inne wydania - Wyświetl wszystko
Kluczowe wyrazy i wyrażenia
Amid Barry Cornwall Bay of Biscay beauty bells bird bless bloom blow bower boys breast breath breeze bright brow busy bee cheerful clouds cold cottage creeping everywhere dark dear deep delight dost doth dreary dwell earth Eliza Cook Erin go bragh eyes fair fairy flowers gale gentle glow golden grave green happy Hark hast hath hear heard heart heaven hour icicles icy tower land laugh lay a-thinking leaves light little tree lonely Longfellow loud lullaby Mary Howitt merrily merry morn mountain never night o'er peace poor rain reapers rest roar rocks round sail shine sigh silent sing skies sleep smile snow soft song sorrow soul sound Southey Spring star storm stream summer sunset tree thee thou toil vale village weaver voice warm wave wayward wind weary whistling wild wind wing WINTER woods
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 182 - Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of Despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear it fully knows, By the twanging, And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling, And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells Of the bells Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells In the clamor...
Strona 182 - Iron bells ! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels ! In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone ! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people — ah, the people — They that dwell up in the steeple...
Strona 61 - You haste away so soon: As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing.
Strona 72 - O listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound. No Nightingale did ever chaunt More welcome notes to weary bands Of travellers in some shady haunt. Among Arabian sands...
Strona 85 - Tis a note of enchantment; what ails her? She sees A mountain ascending, a vision of trees; Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside.
Strona 181 - Hear the loud alarum bells — Brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire...
Strona 106 - He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; .' It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. '' My Lord has need of these flowerets gay," The Reaper said, and smiled ; 4.
Strona 135 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
Strona 107 - Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining ; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining ; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.
Strona 181 - Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells ! How it swells ; — how it dwells On the Future ! how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells...