English Literature of the Nineteenth Century: On the Plan of the Author's "Compendium of English Literature," and Supplementary to It. Designed for Colleges and Advanced Classes in Schools, as Well as for Private Reading
E.C. & J. Biddle, 1857 - 785 страници
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Страница 540 - The floating clouds their state shall lend To her ; for her the willow bend ; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the Storm Grace that shall mould the Maiden's form By silent sympathy. "The stars of midnight shall be dear To her ; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
Страница 444 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread — Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the Rich ! She sang this
Страница 543 - THE world is too much with us: late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.
Страница 162 - And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail...
Страница 604 - Pray, do not mock me ! I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, and, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind. Methinks I should know you, and know this man ; Yet I am doubtful...
Страница 540 - SHE was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
Страница 444 - Work, work, work! From weary chime to chime ; Work, work, work, As prisoners work for crime : Band and gusset and seam, Seam and gusset and band, Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumbed, As well as the weary hand.
Страница 237 - With priest's and warrior's voice between. No portents now our foes amaze, Forsaken Israel wanders lone : Our fathers would not know THY ways, And THOU hast left them to their own. But, present still, though now unseen ! When brightly shines the prosperous day, Be thoughts of THEE a cloudy screen To temper the deceitful ray. And...