Beautiful poetry, selected by the ed. of The Critic, Том 31855 |
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Страница 157
... Voice of God ... ... ... H. ... ... ... page 197 332 356 ... 266 81 ... 428 434 ... 462 478 487 494 ... 498 513 5 66 136 The Song of Night 238 Hymn of the Vaudois Mountaineers 259 The Hour of Death 338 ... 414 ... The Sunbeam HERBERT ...
... Voice of God ... ... ... H. ... ... ... page 197 332 356 ... 266 81 ... 428 434 ... 462 478 487 494 ... 498 513 5 66 136 The Song of Night 238 Hymn of the Vaudois Mountaineers 259 The Hour of Death 338 ... 414 ... The Sunbeam HERBERT ...
Страница 160
... Voice ... ... The Chivalry of Labour A Poor Man's Wife M'DIARMID . ... ... ... ... A Child's First Impression of a Star MEAD . Absent Love MELLEN . The Clouds ... MEREDITH , OWEN . The Artist Changes Thought ... Eager Welcome A Sea ...
... Voice ... ... The Chivalry of Labour A Poor Man's Wife M'DIARMID . ... ... ... ... A Child's First Impression of a Star MEAD . Absent Love MELLEN . The Clouds ... MEREDITH , OWEN . The Artist Changes Thought ... Eager Welcome A Sea ...
Страница 172
... voices low with fashion , not with feeling , softly freighted All the air about the windows , with elastic laughters sweet ... voice o'erfloat the rest . In the morning , horn of huntsman , hoof of steed , and laugh of rider , Spread out ...
... voices low with fashion , not with feeling , softly freighted All the air about the windows , with elastic laughters sweet ... voice o'erfloat the rest . In the morning , horn of huntsman , hoof of steed , and laugh of rider , Spread out ...
Страница 177
... voice arise , That once , in thickest shades , Trembled through Paradise . " Blind , but beloved ! shall thy dead arise ! Did ever such ethereal essence die ? Out of the dust arise , Thine agony deny ! " I am ! I was ! -ere thine ideal ...
... voice arise , That once , in thickest shades , Trembled through Paradise . " Blind , but beloved ! shall thy dead arise ! Did ever such ethereal essence die ? Out of the dust arise , Thine agony deny ! " I am ! I was ! -ere thine ideal ...
Страница 184
... the vale ; Flapp'd in the bay the pirate's sheet , Curses were on the gale . Rich goods lay on the sand , and murder'd men : Pirate and wrecker kept their revels then . But calm , low voices , words of grace , 184 BEAUTIFUL POETRY .
... the vale ; Flapp'd in the bay the pirate's sheet , Curses were on the gale . Rich goods lay on the sand , and murder'd men : Pirate and wrecker kept their revels then . But calm , low voices , words of grace , 184 BEAUTIFUL POETRY .
Често срещани думи и фрази
Advertisements BARRY CORNWALL BEAUTIFUL POETRY beneath bird blue breast breath bright brow cheek Choice Passages Clerical Journal cloth cloud cold Consisting of Choice creeping everywhere dark death deep doth dream earth EBENEZER ELLIOTT Edited by H. G. ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ESSEX STREET eyes fair flowers Fontenoy gaze golden grave green H. G. ADAMS hath hear heard heart heaven hills Holy Orders hour JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL JOHN CROCKFORD Lady leaves light London Literary Journal lonely look moon morning N. P. WILLIS never night numbers o'er pale Philaster poem poet price 3d rose round S. T. COLERIDGE SACRED SACRED POETS shade shadow sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit spring stars Strand stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought trees United Kingdom University Chronicle voice waves weary wild WILLIAM ALLINGHAM wind
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Страница 200 - 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 forever. I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles.
Страница 198 - She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat, Were it earth in an earthy bed; My dust would hear her and beat, Had I lain for a century dead; Would start and tremble under her feet, And blossom in purple and red.
Страница 189 - With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies ; How silently ; and with how wan a face ! What ! may it be, that even in heavenly place That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries...
Страница 215 - Or the seven stars to light you, Or the polar ray to right you ; But you never may behold Little John or Robin bold ; Never one, of all the clan, Thrumming on an empty can Some old hunting ditty, while He doth his green way beguile To fair Hostess Merriment Down beside the pasture Trent, For he left the merry tale Messenger for spicy ale.
Страница 208 - THE sun upon the Weirdlaw Hill In Ettrick's vale is sinking sweet; The westland wind is hush and still, The lake lies sleeping at my feet. Yet not the" landscape to mine eye Bears those bright hues that once it bore, Though evening with her richest dye Flames o'er the hills of Ettrick's shore. With listless look along the plain I see Tweed's silver current glide, And coldly mark the holy fane Of Melrose rise in ruined pride. The quiet lake, the balmy air, The hill, the stream, the tower, the tree...
Страница 194 - Morea's hills the setting sun; not as in northern climes obscurely bright, but one unclouded blaze of living light : o'er the hushed deep the yellow beam he throws, gilds the green wave that trembles as it glows. On old jEgina's rock and Idra's isle the god of gladness sheds his parting smile; o'er his own regions lingering, loves to shine, though there his altars are no more divine.
Страница 198 - None like her, none. Just now the dry-tongued laurels' pattering talk Seem'd her light foot along the garden walk, And shook my heart to think she comes once more But even then I "heard her close the door, The gates of Heaven are closed, and she is gone.
Страница 221 - Call for the robin redbreast, and the -wren, Since o'er shady groves they hover, And with leaves and flowers do cover The friendless bodies of unburied men.
Страница 200 - I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river...
Страница 194 - Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, Along Morea's hills the setting sun: Not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light!