ParnassusRalph Waldo Emerson J. R. Osgood, 1875 - 534 sider |
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Side xx
... live Merrily and to trust to Good Verses Wants of Man , The When the Assault was intended to the City William Sidney on his Birthday , To NARRATIVE POEMS AND BALLADS . Alfred the Harper Alice Brand Sterling Scott 298 334 Allen - a ...
... live Merrily and to trust to Good Verses Wants of Man , The When the Assault was intended to the City William Sidney on his Birthday , To NARRATIVE POEMS AND BALLADS . Alfred the Harper Alice Brand Sterling Scott 298 334 Allen - a ...
Side xxviii
... 502 To his Winding Sheet Her Letter . 495 His Answer to her Letter To Live Merrily and to Trust to Good 496 Verses Plain Language from Truthful James 504 To Silvia HEYWOOD , JOHN . Born in England ; died 1565 xxviii INDEX OF AUTHORS .
... 502 To his Winding Sheet Her Letter . 495 His Answer to her Letter To Live Merrily and to Trust to Good 496 Verses Plain Language from Truthful James 504 To Silvia HEYWOOD , JOHN . Born in England ; died 1565 xxviii INDEX OF AUTHORS .
Side 4
... live with her , and live with thee , In unreproved pleasures free ; To hear the lark begin his flight , And singing startle the dull night From his watch - tower in the skies , Till the dappled dawn doth rise ; Then to come in spite of ...
... live with her , and live with thee , In unreproved pleasures free ; To hear the lark begin his flight , And singing startle the dull night From his watch - tower in the skies , Till the dappled dawn doth rise ; Then to come in spite of ...
Side 5
... live . MILTON . - DAWN . Juliet . Wilt thou be gone ? It is not yet near day , It was the nightingale , and not the lark , That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear : Nightly she sings on yon pomegran- ate tree : Believe me , love ...
... live . MILTON . - DAWN . Juliet . Wilt thou be gone ? It is not yet near day , It was the nightingale , and not the lark , That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear : Nightly she sings on yon pomegran- ate tree : Believe me , love ...
Side 6
... live , or stay and die . SHAKSPEARE . MORNING . THIS castle hath a pleasant seat ; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends it- self Unto our gentle senses . This guest of summer , The temple - haunting martlet , does approve , By his lov ...
... live , or stay and die . SHAKSPEARE . MORNING . THIS castle hath a pleasant seat ; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends it- self Unto our gentle senses . This guest of summer , The temple - haunting martlet , does approve , By his lov ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
auld auld lang syne beauty BEN JONSON beneath birds blessed blood blow brave breast breath brow busk Clyde's water COVENTRY PATMORE cried crown dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth eyes F. B. SANBORN face fair Fair Annie fear flowers frae gaze Glenlogie gold grace green hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven heir of Linne holy honor JEAN INGELOW king lady land light live look Lord Maryland maun mind morn ne'er never night o'er Osawatomie pray rock rose round sail SHAKSPEARE shalt ship shore sing sleep smile song soul spirit stars steed stood Svend Vonved sweet sword tears tell thee thet thine thing thou art thought Toll slowly tree Twas unto voice wave weep wild wind wood word
Populære passager
Side 468 - Nesera's hair ? Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days : But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, And slits the thin-spun life.
Side 271 - O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand...
Side 28 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy...
Side 102 - Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die.
Side 174 - But there's a Tree, of many, one, A single Field which I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone : The Pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat : Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream...
Side 126 - And here were gardens bright with sinuous rills Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
Side 171 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favorite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; "The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the churchway path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Side 127 - The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves ; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!
Side 4 - Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful jollity, Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek ; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
Side 169 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield...