Selections from the British Poets, Band 1 |
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Seite 20
Ne suffer'd storm nor frost on them to fall , Their tender buds or leaves to violate ;
Nor scorching heat , nor cold intemperate , T'afflict the creatures which therein did
dwell ; But the mild air , with season moderate , Gently attemper'd , and ...
Ne suffer'd storm nor frost on them to fall , Their tender buds or leaves to violate ;
Nor scorching heat , nor cold intemperate , T'afflict the creatures which therein did
dwell ; But the mild air , with season moderate , Gently attemper'd , and ...
Seite 24
... silver - sounding instruments did meet With the base murmur of the water's fall ;
The water's fall with difference discreet , Now soft , now loud , unto the wind did
call ; The gentle warbling wind low answered to all WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE .
... silver - sounding instruments did meet With the base murmur of the water's fall ;
The water's fall with difference discreet , Now soft , now loud , unto the wind did
call ; The gentle warbling wind low answered to all WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE .
Seite 35
And we will sit upon the rocks , Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks , By
shallow rivers , to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals . And I will make
thee beds of roses , And a thousand fragrant posies ; A cap of flowers , and a
kirtle ...
And we will sit upon the rocks , Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks , By
shallow rivers , to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals . And I will make
thee beds of roses , And a thousand fragrant posies ; A cap of flowers , and a
kirtle ...
Seite 37
Thou sitt'st at home safe by thy quiet fire , And hear'st of other's harms , but fearest
none : And there thou tell'st of kings , and who aspire , Who fall , who rise , who
triumph , who do moan . Perhaps thou talk'st of me , and dost inquire Of my ...
Thou sitt'st at home safe by thy quiet fire , And hear'st of other's harms , but fearest
none : And there thou tell'st of kings , and who aspire , Who fall , who rise , who
triumph , who do moan . Perhaps thou talk'st of me , and dost inquire Of my ...
Seite 46
Rather believe the sea Weeps for the ruin'd merchant when he roars ; Rather the
wind courts but the pregnant sails , When the strong cordage cracks ; rather the
sun Comes but to kiss the fruit in wealthy autumn , When all falls blasted .
Rather believe the sea Weeps for the ruin'd merchant when he roars ; Rather the
wind courts but the pregnant sails , When the strong cordage cracks ; rather the
sun Comes but to kiss the fruit in wealthy autumn , When all falls blasted .
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arms bear beauty breath bright bring clouds comes court dark death deep delight doth earth eternal eyes face fair fall fame fate fear fields fire flowers give gods grace grave green hand happy hath head hear heart heaven hill hope keep king lady leave light live looks lost mighty mind morn Muse Nature never night o'er once pain peace pleasing pleasure praise pride rest rich rise rose round sacred sense shade side sight sing sleep soft song soul sound spirits spread spring stream sure sweet tears tell thee things thou thought Till tree true virtue voice wandering waves wild wind wings wood youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 43 - Sweet Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue, angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My music shows ye have your closes, And all must die.
Seite 216 - THE Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd's care ; His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye : My noonday walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend.
Seite 352 - Molest her ancient solitary reign. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
Seite 96 - There entertain him all the Saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet Societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Seite 174 - A man so various, that he seem'd to be Not one, but all Mankind's Epitome. Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong; Was everything by starts, and nothing long: But in the course of one revolving moon, Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon: Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking; Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Seite 63 - We have short time to stay as you, We have as short a spring; As quick a growth to meet decay, As you, or anything. We die, As your hours do, and dry Away Like to the summer's rain; Or as the pearls of morning's dew, Ne'er to be found again.
Seite 143 - Or of the eternal co-eternal beam, May I express thee unblamed ? since God is light, And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, Bright effluence of bright essence increate. Or hear'st thou rather pure ethereal stream, Whose fountain who shall tell? before the sun, Before the heavens thou wert, and at the voice Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest The rising world of waters dark and deep, Won from the void and formless infinite.
Seite 236 - HAPPY the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to 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.
Seite 91 - Or the unseen Genius of the wood. But let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloister's pale, And love the high embowed roof, With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light. There let the pealing organ blow, To the full-voiced quire below, In service high and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes.
Seite 89 - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine, Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskined stage. But, O sad virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower! Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what love did seek...
Bibliografische Informationen
| Titel | Selections from the British Poets, Band 1 Bände 112-113 von Family library Ausgaben 112-113 von Harper's family library Harpers' family library, no. 112-113 Selections from the British Poets, Fitz-Greene Halleck |
| Herausgeber | Fitz-Greene Halleck |
| Zusammengestellt von | Fitz-Greene Halleck |
| Verlag | Harper & brothers, 1840 |
| Original von | New York Public Library |
| Digitalisiert | 22. Nov. 2006 |
| ISBN | 1404729909, 9781404729902 |
| Zitat exportieren | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |