Poems of Places: England and Wales, Том 2Henry Wadsworth Longfellow J.R. Osgood and Company, 1876 |
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Страница vii
... DREAM THE MURDER OF THE YOUNG PRINCES THE SONG OF THE WESTERN MEN British Apollo , 1707 172 G. Chaucer . 172 J. Keats . 173 R. Herrick . 174 F. Beaumont . 175 0. Goldsmith 175 A. Tennyson 176 W. Shakespeare 185 66 186 R. S. Hawker . 187 ...
... DREAM THE MURDER OF THE YOUNG PRINCES THE SONG OF THE WESTERN MEN British Apollo , 1707 172 G. Chaucer . 172 J. Keats . 173 R. Herrick . 174 F. Beaumont . 175 0. Goldsmith 175 A. Tennyson 176 W. Shakespeare 185 66 186 R. S. Hawker . 187 ...
Страница viii
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. LYME REGIS . AT LYME REGIS LYNN . THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM MALMESBURY . RESTORATION OF MALMESBURY ABBEY . MALTBY . THE MALTBY YEWS . F. T. Palgrave 197 · • T. Hood 198 W. L. Bowles . 206 E. Elliott 207 ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. LYME REGIS . AT LYME REGIS LYNN . THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM MALMESBURY . RESTORATION OF MALMESBURY ABBEY . MALTBY . THE MALTBY YEWS . F. T. Palgrave 197 · • T. Hood 198 W. L. Bowles . 206 E. Elliott 207 ...
Страница 3
... dream of the former day . At once the flood of the Severn sea Flowed over half the plain , And a hundred capes , with huts and trees , Above the flood remain : " T is water here and water there , And the lordly Parret's way Hath never a ...
... dream of the former day . At once the flood of the Severn sea Flowed over half the plain , And a hundred capes , with huts and trees , Above the flood remain : " T is water here and water there , And the lordly Parret's way Hath never a ...
Страница 9
... dream away the sunny hours ; Not for that here in charméd slumber lie The holy relics of that British king Who was the flower of knightly chivalry , Do I stand blest past power of uttering ; But for that on thy cowslip - sprinkled sod ...
... dream away the sunny hours ; Not for that here in charméd slumber lie The holy relics of that British king Who was the flower of knightly chivalry , Do I stand blest past power of uttering ; But for that on thy cowslip - sprinkled sod ...
Страница 15
... dream ? We know not ; but it suits the scene To think such wild things here have been : What spot more meet could grief or sin Choose , at the last , to wither in ? Robert Stephen Hawker . Gloucestershire . GLOUCESTERSHIRE . BELIEVE me ...
... dream ? We know not ; but it suits the scene To think such wild things here have been : What spot more meet could grief or sin Choose , at the last , to wither in ? Robert Stephen Hawker . Gloucestershire . GLOUCESTERSHIRE . BELIEVE me ...
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Често срещани думи и фрази
ABBEY ancient arch behold bells beneath breast breath breeze brow calm clouds crown Cusha dark days of yore dead death deep doth dream dwell earth eyes fair gazed gleam gliding glory GRASMERE grave gray green HADDON HALL hall hand happy hath HATHERN hear heard heart heaven Helvellyn Henry Alford hill holy hour INGLEWOOD FOREST James Payn King light London lonely look Lord mighty MONGEWELL mountain mourned NETLEY ABBEY NEWSTEAD ABBEY night Nore o'er once pass peace Praise rise roar Robert Southey Robert Stephen Hawker rock rolled round Saint scene shade shine sight silent Sir Walter sleep smile solemn song soul sound spot stone stood stream street sweet thee thine Thomas Tickell thou thought tomb towers trees uppe vale voice vulgar Boy walls wave Whittington wild William Lisle Bowles William Shakespeare William Wordsworth wind woods
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Страница 60 - My liege, I did deny no prisoners. But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat...
Страница 34 - MY HEART aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Страница 175 - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! Heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life.
Страница 35 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Страница 154 - THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN. AT the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears, Hangs a thrush that sings loud — it has sung for three years ; Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard In the silence of morning the song of the bird. 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.
Страница 234 - The furious German comes, with his clarions and his drums, His bravoes of Alsatia, and pages of Whitehall; They are bursting on our flanks! Grasp your pikes! Close your ranks! For Rupert never comes but to conquer or to fall. They are here! They rush on! We are broken! We are gone! Our left is borne before them like stubble on the blast. O Lord, put forth Thy might! O Lord, defend the right! Stand back to back, in God's name, and fight it to the last!
Страница 153 - ON THE DEATH OF DR, LEV KIT. CONDEMNED to hope's delusive mine, As on we toil from day to day, By sudden blasts, or slow decline, Our social comforts drop away. Well tried through many a varying year, See Levett to the grave descend, Officious, innocent, sincere, Of every friendless name the friend.
Страница 117 - Receding and speeding, And shocking and rocking, And darting and parting, And threading and spreading, And whizzing and hissing, And dripping and skipping, And hitting and splitting, And shining and twining, And rattling and battling, And shaking and...
Страница 36 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
Страница 91 - I sat and spun within the doore, My thread brake off, I raised myne eyes; The level sun, like ruddy ore, Lay sinking in the barren skies; And dark against day's golden death She moved where Lindis wandereth, My sonne's faire wife, Elizabeth. 'Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!' calling, Ere the early dews were falling, Farre away I heard her song. 'Cusha! Cusha!