The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English LanguageFrancis Turner Palgrave Macmillan and Company, 1888 - 346 sider |
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Side 3
... hand defaced The rich proud cost of out - worn buried age ; When sometime lofty towers I see down - razed , And brass eternal slave to mortal rage ; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore , And the ...
... hand defaced The rich proud cost of out - worn buried age ; When sometime lofty towers I see down - razed , And brass eternal slave to mortal rage ; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore , And the ...
Side 9
... hand , Steal from his figure , and no pace perceived ; So your sweet hue , which methinks still doth stand , Hath motion , and mine eye may be deceived : For fear of which , hear this , thou age unbred , - Ere you were born , was ...
... hand , Steal from his figure , and no pace perceived ; So your sweet hue , which methinks still doth stand , Hath motion , and mine eye may be deceived : For fear of which , hear this , thou age unbred , - Ere you were born , was ...
Side 12
... in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights , And beauty making beautiful old rhyme In praise of ladies dead , and lovely knights ; Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best Of hand 12 Book.
... in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights , And beauty making beautiful old rhyme In praise of ladies dead , and lovely knights ; Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best Of hand 12 Book.
Side 13
... hand is sworn Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn : Vow , alack , for youth unmeet ; Youth so apt to pluck a sweet . Do not call it sin in me That I am forsworn for thee : Thou for whom e'en Jove would swear Juno but an Ethiope were ...
... hand is sworn Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn : Vow , alack , for youth unmeet ; Youth so apt to pluck a sweet . Do not call it sin in me That I am forsworn for thee : Thou for whom e'en Jove would swear Juno but an Ethiope were ...
Side 19
... hand . W. Shakespeare XXXI Farewell ! thou art too dear for my possessing , And like enough thou know'st thy estimate : The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing , My bonds in thee are all determinate . For how do I hold thee but by ...
... hand . W. Shakespeare XXXI Farewell ! thou art too dear for my possessing , And like enough thou know'st thy estimate : The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing , My bonds in thee are all determinate . For how do I hold thee but by ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
Arethuse beauty behold beneath birds blest bonnie bower breast breath bright Brignall brow cheek clouds County Guy dark dead dear death delight dost doth dream earth ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA eyes F. T. PALGRAVE fair Fancy fear flowers frae FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE gentle glory Golden Treasury Gray green happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill Kirconnell kiss leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Byron love's Lycidas lyre LYRICAL Milton mind morn mountains Muse ne'er never night Nymph o'er P. B. Shelley pale passion Pindar pleasure poem Poetry poets round Rule Britannia seem'd shade Shakespeare shore sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit Spring star stream sweet tears thee There's thine thou art thought tree Twas voice waly waly waves weep white-thorn wild winds wings Wordsworth Yarrow youth
Populære passager
Side 15 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Side 306 - Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ; To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Side 17 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted...
Side 304 - Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!
Side 71 - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Side 202 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below — As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Side 8 - 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 93 - Where the great Sun begins his state Robed in flames and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight; While the ploughman, near at hand, Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Side 205 - 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 257 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly...