The Cambridge Book of Poetry and SongT.Y. Crowell & Company, 1882 - 882 sider |
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Side xlvii
... Sweet ) 273 Courage 66 285 The Press of Sorrow ( Bitter Daisy 66 66 286 Sweet ) Purity 46 46 286 273 To an Infant Sleeping ( Bitter The Type of Struggling Human- ity ( Marble Prophecy ) Regret 66 2-5 275 This Name of Mine ( Album Leaves ) ...
... Sweet ) 273 Courage 66 285 The Press of Sorrow ( Bitter Daisy 66 66 286 Sweet ) Purity 46 46 286 273 To an Infant Sleeping ( Bitter The Type of Struggling Human- ity ( Marble Prophecy ) Regret 66 2-5 275 This Name of Mine ( Album Leaves ) ...
Side 10
... sweet bride in her bloom , All sunshine , and snowy , and pure . As the carriage rolls down the dark street The little wife laughs and makes heer ; UNSUNG . As sweet as the breath that goes From the lips of the white rose , As weird as ...
... sweet bride in her bloom , All sunshine , and snowy , and pure . As the carriage rolls down the dark street The little wife laughs and makes heer ; UNSUNG . As sweet as the breath that goes From the lips of the white rose , As weird as ...
Side 48
... Sweet hope ! Lord , tarry not , but come . Beyond the blooming and the fading I shall be soon ; Beyond the shining and the shading , Beyond the hoping and the dreading , I shall be soon , Love , rest , and home ! Sweet hope ! Lord ...
... Sweet hope ! Lord , tarry not , but come . Beyond the blooming and the fading I shall be soon ; Beyond the shining and the shading , Beyond the hoping and the dreading , I shall be soon , Love , rest , and home ! Sweet hope ! Lord ...
Side 50
... sweet In all the varied human flowers we meet In the wide garden of humanity , And , like the bee , if home the spoil we bear , Hived in our hearts , it turns to nec- tar there . A suppliant whose prayer may be denied gate : Like a ...
... sweet In all the varied human flowers we meet In the wide garden of humanity , And , like the bee , if home the spoil we bear , Hived in our hearts , it turns to nec- tar there . A suppliant whose prayer may be denied gate : Like a ...
Side 94
... sweet ex- press , How pure , how dear their dwelling- place . Debased by slavery , or corrupt by power , Who knows ... sweet ! when alone . Though I fly to Istambol , Athens holds my heart and soul : Can I cease to love thee ? No ! Σῶη ...
... sweet ex- press , How pure , how dear their dwelling- place . Debased by slavery , or corrupt by power , Who knows ... sweet ! when alone . Though I fly to Istambol , Athens holds my heart and soul : Can I cease to love thee ? No ! Σῶη ...
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Andre udgaver - Se alle
Almindelige termer og sætninger
angels art thou Aurora Leigh Babie Bell beauty beneath bird blessed bliss bloom breast breath bright brow calm child Childe Harold cloud crown dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth evermore eyes face fair fear feel flowers frae glory gold golden grave gray green hand happy hath hear heart heaven hope hour kiss Lars Porsena leaves life's light lips live lonely look Lord love's morning never night Night Thoughts o'er pain Philip Van Artevelde praise rest rose round S. T. Coleridge shine shore sigh silent sing skies sleep smile snow soft song sorrow soul spirit spring stars summer sweet T. B. Aldrich tears tell tempest thee thine things thou art thou hast thought Twas voice waves weary weep wild wind wings wonder youth
Populære passager
Side 422 - Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we— Of many far wiser than we— And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by...
Side 377 - WHEN I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide, ' Doth God exact day-labor, light denied ?
Side 297 - Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold : Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold. And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And. with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, " The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,
Side 311 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
Side 316 - Oh ! say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming...
Side 669 - High instincts before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised: But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake, To perish never; Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with...
Side 344 - 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 234 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change his place...
Side 491 - That orbed maiden, with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn ; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer...
Side 75 - Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course ; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again, And, lost each human trace, surrendering up Thine...