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" And when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring To arched walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown that Sylvan loves... "
The Poetical Works of John Milton - Страница 285
по John Milton - 1834 - 392 страници
Пълен достъп - Информация за книгата

Imagination and Fancy: Or, Selections from the English Poets, Illustrative ...

Leigh Hunt - 1845 - 255 страници
...When the gust hath blown his fill, Ending on the rustling leaves With minute-drops from off the eaves: And when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams,...brown, that Sylvan loves, Of pine, or monumental oak, Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their...

Imagination and fancy; or Selections from the English poets, with critical ...

Leigh Hunt - 1845
...When the gust hath blown his f II, Ending on the rustling leaves With minute-drops from off the eaves: And when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams,...brown, that Sylvan loves, Of pine, or monumental oak, Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their...

Studies in English poetry [an anthology] with biogr. sketches and notes by J ...

Joseph Payne - 1845
...the gust hath blown his fill, Ending on the rustling leaves, With minute drops3 from off the eaves. And, when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams,...And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, Of pine, or monumental4 oak, Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, Or fright...

Poetry for Home and School ...

Anna Cabot Lowell - 1846
...the gust hath blown his fill, Ending on the rustling leaves, With minute drops from off the eaves. And when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams,...brown, that Sylvan loves, Of pine, or monumental oak, Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their...

The Gem book of poesie, by the author of 'The ancient poets and poetry of ...

Gem book - 1846 - 160 страници
...When the gust has blown his fill, Ending on the rustling leaves, With minute drops from off the eaves. And when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams,...brown that Sylvan loves Of pine, or monumental oak, Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their...

Cyclopaedia of English Literature: A Selection of the Choicest Productions ...

Robert Chambers - 1847
...twilight groves, And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, Of pine, or monumental oak, Where the rude axe, ine skill taught me this, That from everything I saw,...height, Through the meanest object's sight, By the murm ; Hide me from day's garish eye, While the bee with honey 'd thigh, That at her flow'ry work doth sing,...

The book of poetry [ed. by B.G. Johns].

Book - 1847 - 186 страници
...to bind the sheaves ; Or, if the earb'er season lead, To the tann'd haycock in the mead. MEDITATION. WHEN the sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me,...twilight groves, And shadows brown, that sylvan loves, 26 MEDITATION. Of pine or monumental oak ; Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, Was never heard...

The Book of Poetry

Bennett George Johns - 1847 - 186 страници
...to bind the sheaves ; Or, if the earlier season lead, To the tann'd haycock in the mead. MEDITATION. WHEN the sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me,...twilight groves, And shadows brown, that sylvan loves, 26 MEDITATION. Of pine or monumental oak ; Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, Was never heard...

L'allegro and Il Penseroso

John Milton - 1848 - 60 страници
...gust hath blown his fill, Ending on the rustling leaves, . With minute drops from off the eaves. EC And when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams,...brown, that Sylvan loves, Of pine, or monumental oak, Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their...

The Beauties of the British Poets: With a Few Introductory Observations...

George Croly - 1849 - 395 страници
...gust hath blown his fill, Eliding on the rustling leaves, With minute drops from off the eaves. Aud when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me,...brown that Sylvan loves, Of pine or monumental oak, Where the rude axe with heaved stroke, Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their...




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