The Poetical Common-place Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of Standard and Fugitive Poetry, Including a Few Translations Hitherto UnpublishedJohn Anderson, 1822 - 388 Seiten |
Im Buch
Ergebnisse 1-5 von 89
Seite v
... Morning , Pennington , 14 Midnight , Anonymous , 16 Sighs , Mrs Rolls , 17 Smiles , Ditto , 18 The Lover's Complaint , Googe , 19 To a Snowdrop , Anonymous , 21 On a Dead Leaf falling into a Gen- tleman's Bosom , From Sympathy , The ...
... Morning , Pennington , 14 Midnight , Anonymous , 16 Sighs , Mrs Rolls , 17 Smiles , Ditto , 18 The Lover's Complaint , Googe , 19 To a Snowdrop , Anonymous , 21 On a Dead Leaf falling into a Gen- tleman's Bosom , From Sympathy , The ...
Seite vi
... Morning Star , To the Evening Star , Anonymous , Page 54 Robinson , Anonymous , Campbell , Barbauld , Ditto , · 55 Anonymous , 59 The Exile of Erin , The Fugitive , The Hamlet , The Wanderer's Roundelay , Meditation in a Church - yard ...
... Morning Star , To the Evening Star , Anonymous , Page 54 Robinson , Anonymous , Campbell , Barbauld , Ditto , · 55 Anonymous , 59 The Exile of Erin , The Fugitive , The Hamlet , The Wanderer's Roundelay , Meditation in a Church - yard ...
Seite xii
... morn ! returning light , 14 Hail to this teeming stage of strife , 184 Hark ! not a breath of wind ; no zephyr now ... morning of the hallow'd day ! How sweet it is in twilight shade , How sweet , my friend , it is to rove , 118 145 315 ...
... morn ! returning light , 14 Hail to this teeming stage of strife , 184 Hark ! not a breath of wind ; no zephyr now ... morning of the hallow'd day ! How sweet it is in twilight shade , How sweet , my friend , it is to rove , 118 145 315 ...
Seite xiv
... morning , 167 287 The tears I shed must ever fall , The tumult of battle had ceas'd - high in air , The wight whose tale these artless lines unfold , The wind has swept from the wide atmosphere , There came to the beach a poor exile of ...
... morning , 167 287 The tears I shed must ever fall , The tumult of battle had ceas'd - high in air , The wight whose tale these artless lines unfold , The wind has swept from the wide atmosphere , There came to the beach a poor exile of ...
Seite 5
... morn or at eve , I have wander'd near , And in various lights have view'd it ; With what different forms to friendship dear , Hath the magic of fancy endued it ! It hath sometimes seem'd like a lonely sail , A white speck on the emerald ...
... morn or at eve , I have wander'd near , And in various lights have view'd it ; With what different forms to friendship dear , Hath the magic of fancy endued it ! It hath sometimes seem'd like a lonely sail , A white speck on the emerald ...
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Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
The Poetical Commonplace Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of ... C. W. C. Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2009 |
The Poetical Commonplace Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of ... C. W. C. Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2009 |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
admiring bands ANONYMOUS art thou beam beauty beneath billows black crows blast blest bliss bloom bosom bower breast breath breeze bright charm cheek cherub clouds cold dark dark wave dead dear death delight dream earth ev'ning ev'ry fair fate Fingal flowers fond Gelert gleam gloom glory glow grave green grief grove hail hast hath hear heart Heav'n HENRY KIRKE WHITE hill hour kiss of Morn light lips lonely LORD BYRON lov'd lyre maid moon morn mountain mourn Muse ne'er night o'er pale rapture rill rose round scene seem'd shade sigh silent sleep slumber smile soft song sorrow soul sound star Star of Bethlehem storm strain stream summer sweet swell tear tell tempest thee thine thou thought tomb tree trembling Twas vale voice wake wander wave weep wild wind wing woods youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 53 - 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.
Seite 187 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Seite 270 - When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulder flung, Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known...
Seite 247 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee...
Seite 235 - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out...
Seite 304 - Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.
Seite 189 - If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flatt'ry sooth the dull cold ear of Death...
Seite 229 - Can I forget the dismal night, that gave My soul's best part for ever to the grave! How silent did his old companions tread, By midnight lamps, the mansions of the dead, Through breathing statues, then unheeded things, Through rows of warriors, and through walks of kings!
Seite 85 - Erin, my country ! though sad and forsaken, In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore ; But, alas ! in a far foreign land I awaken, And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more ! Oh cruel fate ! wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace — where no perils can chase me?
Seite 4 - Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.