Training of the Voice

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Страница 110 - I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally, And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow . To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Страница 128 - From wandering on a foreign strand! If such there breathe, go, mark him well: For him no minstrel raptures swell; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim; Despite...
Страница 97 - TO him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Страница 112 - I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling. And here and there a foamy flake Upon me, as I travel With many a silvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel.
Страница 113 - Hear the sledges with the bells, Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells.' How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars, that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Страница 123 - Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead ! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility : But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger...
Страница 96 - I HEARD the trailing garments of the Night Sweep through her marble halls ! I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light From the celestial walls ! I felt her presence, by its spell of might, Stoop o'er me from above ; The calm majestic presence of the Night, As of the one I love. I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight, The manifold soft chimes, That fill the haunted chambers of the Night, Like some old poet's rhymes. From the cool cisterns of the midnight air...
Страница 113 - Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells! How it dwells On the Future!
Страница 126 - Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests ; in all time, Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime...

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