The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English LanguageFrancis Turner Palgrave Macmillan and Company, 1886 - 346 sider |
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Side 2
... dead ; Spread forth thy golden hair In larger locks than thou wast wont before , And emperor - like decore With diadem of pearl thy temples fair : Chase hence the ugly night Which serves but to make dear thy glorious light . -This is ...
... dead ; Spread forth thy golden hair In larger locks than thou wast wont before , And emperor - like decore With diadem of pearl thy temples fair : Chase hence the ugly night Which serves but to make dear thy glorious light . -This is ...
Side 9
... dead . W. Shakespeare XV DIAPHENIA Diaphenia like the daffadowndilly , White as the sun , fair as the lily , Heigh ho , how I do love thee ! I do love thee as my lambs Are beloved of their dams ; Diaphenia like the spreading roses ...
... dead . W. Shakespeare XV DIAPHENIA Diaphenia like the daffadowndilly , White as the sun , fair as the lily , Heigh ho , how I do love thee ! I do love thee as my lambs Are beloved of their dams ; Diaphenia like the spreading roses ...
Side 10
... dead , thy breath to life might mov . me . Diaphenia like to all things blesséd When all thy praises are expressed , Dear joy , how I do love thee ! As the birds do love the spring , Or the bees their careful king : Then in requite ...
... dead , thy breath to life might mov . me . Diaphenia like to all things blesséd When all thy praises are expressed , Dear joy , how I do love thee ! As the birds do love the spring , Or the bees their careful king : Then in requite ...
Side 12
... HIS LOVE When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights , And beauty making beautiful old rhyme Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best Of hand In praise of ladies dead , and lovely knights ; 12 Book.
... HIS LOVE When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights , And beauty making beautiful old rhyme Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best Of hand In praise of ladies dead , and lovely knights ; 12 Book.
Side 21
... dead , All thy friends are lapp'd in lead : All thy fellow birds do sing Careless of thy sorrowing : Even so , poor bird , like thee None alive will pity me . R. Barnefield XXXV Care - charmer Sleep , son of the sable Night , Brother to ...
... dead , All thy friends are lapp'd in lead : All thy fellow birds do sing Careless of thy sorrowing : Even so , poor bird , like thee None alive will pity me . R. Barnefield XXXV Care - charmer Sleep , son of the sable Night , Brother to ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
art thou auld Robin Gray beauty behold beneath birds blest bliss bonnie bower breast breath bright Brignall brow cheek County Guy dead dear death delight dost doth dream earth ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA eyes fair fear feel flowers frae gentle glory gone grace Gray green Greta woods happy hast hath Hazeldean hear heard heart heaven hour kiss lady leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Byron Lycidas lyre maiden Mermaid Tavern mind morn mountain ne'er never night nymphs o'er P. B. Shelley pale passion Pindar pleasure poets rose round S. T. Coleridge seem'd shade Shakespeare shore sigh sight sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star sweet tears tell thee There's thine thou art thought tree Twas voice waly waly waves weep wild winds wings Wordsworth Yarrow youth
Populære passager
Side 187 - Hence in a season of calm weather Though inland far we be, Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the Children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Side 119 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love. A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
Side 185 - The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose, The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare, Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
Side 188 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; In a cowslip's bell I lie : There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Side 10 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day ? Thou art more lovely and more temperate : Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
Side 49 - Neaera'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 6 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee...
Side 135 - Stern Lawgiver ! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace ; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face : Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads ; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.
Side 140 - O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Side 157 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!