Poetry for children, selected by L. Aikin1804 |
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Страница 9
... warbling throat , And all that hear admire the fong . Yon bulfinch , with unvary'd tone , Of cadence harsh and accent fhrill , Has brighter plumage to atone For want of harmony and skill . And while to please fome courtly fair He one ...
... warbling throat , And all that hear admire the fong . Yon bulfinch , with unvary'd tone , Of cadence harsh and accent fhrill , Has brighter plumage to atone For want of harmony and skill . And while to please fome courtly fair He one ...
Страница 41
... - shower was paft ; But the warbling of April awoke them again . To crop the young plants , and to frisk on the plain . E 3 Then 42 Moonlight . Then I caught this poor fellow , The Piedmontese and his Marmor Moonlight Snow.
... - shower was paft ; But the warbling of April awoke them again . To crop the young plants , and to frisk on the plain . E 3 Then 42 Moonlight . Then I caught this poor fellow , The Piedmontese and his Marmor Moonlight Snow.
Страница 44
... warbling out his grief , he dies . THE BEAGLE AND FAWN . } } THRO ' the deep foreft , o'er the vale and lawn , The well - breathed beagle drives the flying fawn . In vain he tries the covert of the brakes , Or deep beneath the trembling ...
... warbling out his grief , he dies . THE BEAGLE AND FAWN . } } THRO ' the deep foreft , o'er the vale and lawn , The well - breathed beagle drives the flying fawn . In vain he tries the covert of the brakes , Or deep beneath the trembling ...
Страница 82
... warbling of the deep - ton'd horn . SCOT . DESCRIPTION OF A COTTAGE . WHERE o'er the brook's moift margin hazels meet , Stands my lone home , -a pleasant , cool retreat . Gay looseftrife there and pale valerian spring , And tuneful reed ...
... warbling of the deep - ton'd horn . SCOT . DESCRIPTION OF A COTTAGE . WHERE o'er the brook's moift margin hazels meet , Stands my lone home , -a pleasant , cool retreat . Gay looseftrife there and pale valerian spring , And tuneful reed ...
Страница 128
... warbling fountain Bewail myself asleep ; Where feather'd choirs combining With gentle murmʼring streams , And winds in concert joining Raife fadly - pleafing dreams . ADDISON . Temperance . The African Prince . TEMPERANCE . -THERE's not.
... warbling fountain Bewail myself asleep ; Where feather'd choirs combining With gentle murmʼring streams , And winds in concert joining Raife fadly - pleafing dreams . ADDISON . Temperance . The African Prince . TEMPERANCE . -THERE's not.
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Често срещани думи и фрази
æther BARBAULD beautiful beneath birds bofom bound breaft bright bufy burſt buſy cheerful clouds courſe defcending defert diftant eaſtern ev'ry eyes fame father William feas feek feen fhade fhall fhepherd fhining fhore fide filent filver fing firſt fleep flocks flood flower fnow foar foft fome foon foul ftars ftill ftream fuch fummer fupply fwains fweet fwell gale green groves hare Heaven hills Hippopotamus hyæna kifs laſt light little hour marmot morn mountains night o'er painted banks paſs paſt pine-apples plain pleaſe pleaſure POPE'S HOMER praiſe Purſue Pyrenees rage reaſon rife riſe rocks rofe round rubies rich ſcene ſeen ſhade ſhining ſhore ſkies ſky ſmiling ſpread ſpring ſtate ſtill ſtore ſtorms ſweet tawny eagle tear tempeft thee theſe thirſt thou thro tide trees trembling united band vale VIRGIL waſte wave weft Whofe Whoſe winds wings Winter woods young youth
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Страница 141 - But who the melodies of morn can tell ? The wild brook babbling down the mountain side : The lowing herd ; the sheepfold's simple bell ; The pipe of early shepherd dim descried In the lone valley ; echoing far and wide The clamorous horn along the cliffs above ; The hollow murmur of the ocean tide ; The hum of bees, the linnet's lay of love, And the full choir that wakes the universal grove.
Страница 22 - HAPPY the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground ; Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire ; Whose trees in Summer yield him shade, In Winter fire.
Страница 88 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
Страница 32 - You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man ; Now tell me the reason, I pray. In the days of my youth...
Страница 73 - While, lightly poised, the scaly brood In myriads cleave thy crystal flood ; The springing trout in speckled pride, The salmon, monarch of the tide ; The ruthless pike, intent on war, The silver eel, and mottled par. Devolving from thy parent lake, A charming maze thy waters make, By bowers of birch and groves of pine, And hedges flower'd with eglantine.
Страница 107 - While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Страница 59 - Ye mute Companions of my Toils, that bear In all my Griefs a more than equal Share!
Страница 62 - By wintry famine rous'd, from all the tract Of horrid mountains which the shining Alps, And wavy Apennine, and Pyrenees, Branch out stupendous into distant lands; Cruel as death, and hungry as the grave; Burning for blood; bony, and gaunt, and grim. Assembling wolves in raging troops descend; And, pouring o'er the country, bear along, Keen as the north wind sweeps the glossy snow. All is their prize.
Страница 22 - ... shade. In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years slide soft away. In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day. Sound sleep by night; study and ease, Together mixt; sweet recreation: And innocence, which most does please With meditation.
Страница 126 - On foreign mountains may the Sun refine The grape's soft juice, and mellow it to wine, With citron groves adorn a distant soil, And the fat olive swell with floods of oil : We envy not the warmer clime, that lies...