Pearls from the poets: specimens selected, with biogr. notes, by H.W. DulckenHenry William Dulcken 1860 |
מתוך הספר
תוצאות 1-5 מתוך 17
עמוד 12
... short soever : Thou that mak'st a day of night , Goddess , excellently bright . BEN JONSON . [ " Rare BEN JONSON , " bricklayer , soldier , actor , dramatist , superintendent of masques at the English Court , and poet laureate , was ...
... short soever : Thou that mak'st a day of night , Goddess , excellently bright . BEN JONSON . [ " Rare BEN JONSON , " bricklayer , soldier , actor , dramatist , superintendent of masques at the English Court , and poet laureate , was ...
עמוד 52
... short poems , but some of these are marvellous for the force of their language and the purity of their tone . ] The Skylark . AIL to thee , blithe spirit ! A MOTHER'S LOVE James Montgomery TO THE MOON Sir Philip Sidney.
... short poems , but some of these are marvellous for the force of their language and the purity of their tone . ] The Skylark . AIL to thee , blithe spirit ! A MOTHER'S LOVE James Montgomery TO THE MOON Sir Philip Sidney.
עמוד 82
... short verses have been sufficient to preserve from oblivion the name alike of the writer , and of the hero in whose honour they were penned ; and yet this has been the case with the Rev. CHARLES WOLFE and his ode " On the Death of Sir ...
... short verses have been sufficient to preserve from oblivion the name alike of the writer , and of the hero in whose honour they were penned ; and yet this has been the case with the Rev. CHARLES WOLFE and his ode " On the Death of Sir ...
עמוד 87
... short and mournful career . As a literary adventurer in London , he underwent privations which unsettled his mind ; and when at last relief came , in the shape of a legacy of £ 2,000 , the unhappy poet was mad ! And thus he died ...
... short and mournful career . As a literary adventurer in London , he underwent privations which unsettled his mind ; and when at last relief came , in the shape of a legacy of £ 2,000 , the unhappy poet was mad ! And thus he died ...
עמוד 116
... short and simple annals of the poor . The boast of heraldry , the pomp of power , And all that beauty , all that wealth ere gave , Await , alike , the inevitable hour ; - The paths of glory lead but to the grave . Nor you , ye proud ...
... short and simple annals of the poor . The boast of heraldry , the pomp of power , And all that beauty , all that wealth ere gave , Await , alike , the inevitable hour ; - The paths of glory lead but to the grave . Nor you , ye proud ...
מהדורות אחרות - הצג הכל
מונחים וביטויים נפוצים
battle beauty beneath blow born breath bright busy charm cheerful child clouds cold COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD dark dead death deep delight died dreadful earth ELEGY WRITTEN eyes face fair fall fame feel field fire flowers gone grace grave green hand hast head hear heard heart heaven hills Honour hope hour Italy laid land leaves light live look Lord loud Mary meet mind moon morn mother mountain Nature ne'er never night o'er poems poet poor praise pride rage rest rise Robin Hood round seen side silent sing sleep smile soft song soothe soul sound spirit star stormy sweet tears thee things thou thou art thought true village voice waves wild winds woods young youth
קטעים בולטים
עמוד 55 - Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not : Like a high-born maiden In a palace tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower...
עמוד 137 - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cells — Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
עמוד 14 - In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs - and God has given my share I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose.
עמוד 156 - As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I, And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. Till a" the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi
עמוד 27 - 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.
עמוד 115 - Peace to all such ! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires; Blest with each talent and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease; Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
עמוד 138 - WHEN I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide; 'Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?' I fondly ask: but Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, 'God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best: his state Is kingly: thousands...
עמוד 22 - She had a rustic, woodlai.d air, And she was wildly clad; Her eyes were fair, and very fair; — Her beauty made me glad. " Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be? " " How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.
עמוד 121 - WHAT needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones The labour of an age in piled stones ? Or that his hallowed reliques should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid ? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name ? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thyself a livelong monument.
עמוד 56 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground ! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world should listen then, as I am listening now.