Book of the Poets: The Modern Poets of the Nineteenth CenturyScott, Webster & Geary, 1842 - 490 страници |
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Страница 9
... bright exceptions , presents a singularly faded and exhausted appearance during the greater part of the eighteenth century . Poetry , indeed , had almost dwindled into a mere mechanical process of versifi- cation . If the lines were of ...
... bright exceptions , presents a singularly faded and exhausted appearance during the greater part of the eighteenth century . Poetry , indeed , had almost dwindled into a mere mechanical process of versifi- cation . If the lines were of ...
Страница 18
... bright sunshine , and undulates in the light breeze , like a gently stirred plume ; but the eye of Crabbe traces it to the miserable , mud - built cottage , while his heart revels by anticipation in the squalor with which it is tenanted ...
... bright sunshine , and undulates in the light breeze , like a gently stirred plume ; but the eye of Crabbe traces it to the miserable , mud - built cottage , while his heart revels by anticipation in the squalor with which it is tenanted ...
Страница 29
... bright , but sad and solitary , lustre . Sometimes , also , in our own country , a talented woman had dared to step into the ranks of authorship , during the paroxysm of some literary excitement ; but she was regarded as a marvel , or ...
... bright , but sad and solitary , lustre . Sometimes , also , in our own country , a talented woman had dared to step into the ranks of authorship , during the paroxysm of some literary excitement ; but she was regarded as a marvel , or ...
Страница 36
... bright than dauntless day's imperial star , A godlike form advances . " F. You suppose These lines , perhaps , too turgid ; what of those ? " THE MIGHTY MOTHER- P. Now ' tis plain you sneer , For Weston's self could find no semblance ...
... bright than dauntless day's imperial star , A godlike form advances . " F. You suppose These lines , perhaps , too turgid ; what of those ? " THE MIGHTY MOTHER- P. Now ' tis plain you sneer , For Weston's self could find no semblance ...
Страница 47
... , in rosy bower , What art thou in this witching hour ? O noon of day , in sunshine bright , What art thou to the fall of night ? THIS talented and heavenly - minded advocate of pure religion JOANNA BAILLIE . 47 Welcome Bat and Owlet Grey.
... , in rosy bower , What art thou in this witching hour ? O noon of day , in sunshine bright , What art thou to the fall of night ? THIS talented and heavenly - minded advocate of pure religion JOANNA BAILLIE . 47 Welcome Bat and Owlet Grey.
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art thou beauty behold Belshazzar beneath blood born bosom bower breast breath bright brow CATILINE charms cheek child clouds cold CORBOULD Corn Law dark dead death deep delight Donald Macdonald dread dream earth fair fear feel flowers gaze gentle glory grave green hame hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Henry Kirke White hope hour Isle of Palms king labours lady light living lonely look look'd Lord Lord Byron loud lyre maid Martyr of Antioch mind misanthropy morning mountain never night numbers o'er pale pass'd poem poet poetical poetry poor pride rose round Samian wine seem'd sigh sight silent sing sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit stars stood storm stream sweet tears tempest tender thee thine thou thought tree trembling turn'd Twas voice waves weep wild wind young youth
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Страница 111 - Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy Soul's immensity ; Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind, — Mighty Prophet ! Seer blest ! On whom those truths do rest, Which we are toiling all our lives to find...
Страница 417 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, — While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue...
Страница 109 - No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay; Land and sea 30 Give themselves up to jollity...
Страница 106 - My brother John and I. And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side.' ' How many are you, then,' said I, * If they two are in heaven ?' Quick was the little Maid's reply,
Страница 413 - 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 : 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Страница 112 - Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind...
Страница 380 - The world's great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn: Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam Like wrecks of a dissolving dream.
Страница 414 - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy...
Страница 167 - That sometimes from the savage den, And sometimes from the darksome shade, And sometimes starting up at once In green and sunny glade, There came and looked him in the face An angel beautiful and bright, And that he knew it was a fiend...
Страница 108 - The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose, The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare ; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair ; The sunshine is a glorious birth ; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.