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" 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... "
The Moral and Intellectual School Book: Containing Instructions for Reading ... - Side 260
af William Martin - 1838 - 348 sider
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

The Album, Bind 1–2

1822 - 962 sider
...animal occupied with the past and the future — an animal subject to melancholy : " We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter...is fraught ; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought." The extremes of cultivation and of savage nature equally present man disturbed...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

Miscellaneous Poems

Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1826 - 156 sider
...deep Than we mortals dream, Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream i We look belbre and after, And pine for what is not : Our sincerest laughter...is fraught ; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thou ght. Vet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, .and fear ; If we were things born Not...
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The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One ..., Bind 1

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1829 - 575 sider
...'d with thine would be all But an empty vannt— A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want. these liFXq / ' With thy clear keen joyance Langour cannot be : Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee : Thou lovesl...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

Studies in Poetry: Embracing Notices of the Lives and Writings of the Best ...

George Barrell Cheever - 1830 - 516 sider
...fountains Of thy happy strain ? What fields, or « aves, or mountains ? What shapes of sky or-plain? What love of thine own kind ? what ignorance of pain?...is fraught: Our sweetest songs are those that tell the saddest thought. Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear ; If we were things born Not to...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1831 - 628 sider
...we moríais dream, Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal etream ? We look before and afler, quen of saddest thought _ Yet if we could ecorn Hate, and pride, and fear ; If we were things bom Not to...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

The Metropolitan, Bind 14

1835 - 598 sider
...with thine would be all But an empty vaunt — A thing wherein we feel, there is some hidden wnnt ! What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain...What fields, or waves, or mountains, What shapes of skv or plain, What love of thine own kind ! what ignorance of pain ! Waking or asleep, Thou of death...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

Flowers of fiction

1837 - 418 sider
...of manhood is but the idle " crackling of thorns under the pot" in comparison. " We look before and after, And pine for what is not ; Our sincerest laughter...With some pain is fraught : Our sweetest songs are (hose that tell of saddest thought." 248 FLOWERS OF FICTION. 249 And yet, despite even their glee,...
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The Book of Gems: Wordsworth to Bayly

Samuel Carter Hall - 1838 - 412 sider
...Match'd with thine would be all But an empty vaunt — A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want. What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain...What love of thine own kind ? what ignorance of pain ? With thy clear keen joyanee Languor cannot be : Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee : Thou lovest...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

The Book of Gems: Wordsworth to Bayly

Samuel Carter Hall - 1838 - 336 sider
...a flood of rapture so divine. Chorus Hymeneal, Or triumphal chaunt, Match'd with thine would he all What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain...What love of thine own kind ? what ignorance of pain ? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot he : Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee : Thou lovcst...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

The Book of Gems: Wordsworth to Bayly

Samuel Carter Hall - 1838 - 348 sider
...would be all But an empty vaunt — A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want. What objeets are the fountains Of thy happy strain ? What fields,...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...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog




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