English poetry, for use in the schools of the Collegiate institution, Liverpool [ed. by W. J. Conybeare].1857 |
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Страница 69
... hope of gilded spurs to - day ! - But see ! look up ! on Flodden bent , The Scottish foe has fired his tent . " And sudden , as he spoke , From the sharp ridges of the hill , All downward to the banks of Till , Was wreathed in sable ...
... hope of gilded spurs to - day ! - But see ! look up ! on Flodden bent , The Scottish foe has fired his tent . " And sudden , as he spoke , From the sharp ridges of the hill , All downward to the banks of Till , Was wreathed in sable ...
Страница 79
... hope return'd , With flying foot the heath he spurn'd , Held westward with unwearied race , And left behind the panting chase . " Twere long to tell what steeds gave o'er , As swept the hunt through Cambus - more ; What reins were ...
... hope return'd , With flying foot the heath he spurn'd , Held westward with unwearied race , And left behind the panting chase . " Twere long to tell what steeds gave o'er , As swept the hunt through Cambus - more ; What reins were ...
Страница 83
... hope , my heaven , my trust must be , My gentle guide , in following thee . ” He cross'd the threshold - and a clang Of angry steel that instant rang . To his bold brow his spirit rush'd , But soon for vain alarm he blush'd , When on ...
... hope , my heaven , my trust must be , My gentle guide , in following thee . ” He cross'd the threshold - and a clang Of angry steel that instant rang . To his bold brow his spirit rush'd , But soon for vain alarm he blush'd , When on ...
Страница 90
... hope your warrant will bear out the deed . Hub . Uncleanly scruples ! Fear not you : look to't.- Young lad , come forth ; I have to say with you . Enter ARTHUR . Arth . Good morrow , Hubert . Hub . Good morrow , little prince . Arth ...
... hope your warrant will bear out the deed . Hub . Uncleanly scruples ! Fear not you : look to't.- Young lad , come forth ; I have to say with you . Enter ARTHUR . Arth . Good morrow , Hubert . Hub . Good morrow , little prince . Arth ...
Страница 116
... hope repose , ) The bosom of his Father and his God . THE BARD . I. " RUIN seize thee , ruthless king ! Confusion on thy banners wait ! Though fanned by Conquest's crimson wing , They mock the air with idle state . GRAY . Helm , nor ...
... hope repose , ) The bosom of his Father and his God . THE BARD . I. " RUIN seize thee , ruthless king ! Confusion on thy banners wait ! Though fanned by Conquest's crimson wing , They mock the air with idle state . GRAY . Helm , nor ...
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arms battle bear beneath bless blood bold brave breath bright bring brother child close cried dark dead dear death deep dying earth Erle eyes face fair fall father fear fell fight fire foes gallant give gone grave green hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hill hope horse hour John king ladye land leaves light live look Lord loud mind morn mother mountain never night o'er once pale pass play praise pride rest rise rose round seen shade side sight sing slain sleep smile song soon soul sound spirit stand steed stone stood stream sweet tears tell thee thine thou thought Till tower turned Twas voice watch wave wind wood wounds young
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Страница 273 - Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To heaven. Their martyred blood and ashes sow O'er all the...
Страница 150 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man; To-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost; And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Страница 220 - Though in the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread, My steadfast heart shall fear no ill, For thou, O Lord ! art with me still; Thy friendly crook shall give me aid, And guide me through the dreadful shade.
Страница 134 - From Greenland's icy mountains, From India's coral strand ; Where Afric's sunny fountains .Roll down their golden sand ; From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver Their land from error's chain.
Страница 47 - YE Mariners of England That guard our native seas, Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, The battle and the breeze — Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe ! And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow, — While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Страница 113 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay. Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Страница 273 - 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?
Страница 205 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage-bell; But hush!
Страница 72 - O woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made ; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou...
Страница 48 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak, She quells the floods below, As they roar on the shore, When the stormy tempests blow ; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy tempests blow.