The Poetry of the SentimentsRufus Wilmot Griswold Leavitt & Allen, 1853 - 320 sider |
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Side 12
... bird's plaining note , the wild , sharp call , Share thy own spirit : it is sadness all ! How dark and stern upon thy waves looks down Yonder tall cliff - he with the iron crown . And see ! those sable pines along the steep , Are come ...
... bird's plaining note , the wild , sharp call , Share thy own spirit : it is sadness all ! How dark and stern upon thy waves looks down Yonder tall cliff - he with the iron crown . And see ! those sable pines along the steep , Are come ...
Side 29
... bird I see ; Floats the bright butterfly along , The insect choir is loud in song : A spot of light and life , it seems A fairy haunt for fancy dreams . Here stretch'd , the pleasant turf I press , In luxury of idleness ; Sun - streaks ...
... bird I see ; Floats the bright butterfly along , The insect choir is loud in song : A spot of light and life , it seems A fairy haunt for fancy dreams . Here stretch'd , the pleasant turf I press , In luxury of idleness ; Sun - streaks ...
Side 31
... Bird thou never wert , That from heaven , or near it , Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art . Higher still and higher , From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire ; The blue deep thou wingest , And ...
... Bird thou never wert , That from heaven , or near it , Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art . Higher still and higher , From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire ; The blue deep thou wingest , And ...
Side 33
... bird , What sweet thoughts are thine ; I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine . Chorus hymeneal , Or triumphal chaunt , Matched with thine would be all But an empty vaunt- A thing ...
... bird , What sweet thoughts are thine ; I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine . Chorus hymeneal , Or triumphal chaunt , Matched with thine would be all But an empty vaunt- A thing ...
Side 36
... bird , With notes that never but by thee are heard- O , in such scene , most bright , thou liest now , And , with half - open eye , Drinkest in beauty - O , most fair , that thou Wouldst hear our cry ! O , thou , through whom all things ...
... bird , With notes that never but by thee are heard- O , in such scene , most bright , thou liest now , And , with half - open eye , Drinkest in beauty - O , most fair , that thou Wouldst hear our cry ! O , thou , through whom all things ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
adore art thou BARRY CORNWALL beams beauty behold beneath birds bless bliss bosom brave breast breath breeze bright brow calm CHARLES LAMB CHARLES SWAIN clouds dark deep delight divine dost doth dream e'en earth ELIZA COOK eternal fair fate fear feel fire flame flowers Friendship gaze glorious glory golden grace green happy hath hear heart heaven hill honour hour JOANNA BAILLIE King of Kings land Liberty light living lonely look Lord lyre morning mountain muse nature's ne'er night o'er praise proud quiet mind rest rills rocks ROKEBY HALL round shade Shakespeare shine sigh silent sing skies sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit stars storm stream sweet swell tears tempest thee thine thou art thou hast thought throne thy majesty vale voice wandering wave wild wind wings
Populære passager
Side 306 - O Caledonia ! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood...
Side 76 - What you do, Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, I'd have you do it ever : when you sing, I'd have you buy and sell so ; so give alms; Pray so ; and for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too : When you do dance, I wish you A wave o...
Side 102 - While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou sun, of this great world both eye and soul, Acknowledge him thy greater ; sound his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, And when high noon hast gained, and when thou fall'st.
Side 246 - Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age ! Here is the gold ; All this I give you. Let me be your servant : Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty ; For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo The means of weakness and debility ; Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly : let me go with you ; I'll do the service of a younger man In all your...
Side 141 - The seasons' difference ; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, — This is no flattery : these are counsellors, That feelingly persuade me what I am. Sweet are the uses of adversity ; Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ; And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and...
Side 31 - Highe'r still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. In the golden lightning Of the sunken sun, O'er which clouds are brightening, Thou dost float and run; Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.
Side 103 - With every plant, in sign of worship wave. Fountains and ye that warble, as ye flow, Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise : Join voices, all ye living souls ; ye birds, That singing up to heaven-gate ascend, Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise...
Side 34 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be: Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee: Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Side 102 - Angels: for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in heaven, On earth join all ye creatures to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.
Side 141 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons...