The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English LanguageFrancis Turner Palgrave Macmillan, 1891 - 381 sider |
Fra bogen
Resultater 1-5 af 50
Side
... pleasure and pride to dedicate what I have endeavoured to make a true national Anthology of three centuries to Henry Hallam . But he is beyond the reach of any human tokens of love and reverence ; and I desire therefore to place before ...
... pleasure and pride to dedicate what I have endeavoured to make a true national Anthology of three centuries to Henry Hallam . But he is beyond the reach of any human tokens of love and reverence ; and I desire therefore to place before ...
Side
... pleasure ; a source of animation to friends when they meet ; and able to sweeten solitude itself with best society , -with the companionship of the wise and the good , with the beauty which the eye cannot see , and the music only heard ...
... pleasure ; a source of animation to friends when they meet ; and able to sweeten solitude itself with best society , -with the companionship of the wise and the good , with the beauty which the eye cannot see , and the music only heard ...
Side
... pleasure , and the wisdom which comes through pleasure : —within each book the pieces have therefore been arranged in gradations of feeling or subject . And it is hoped that the contents of this Anthology will thus be found to present a ...
... pleasure , and the wisdom which comes through pleasure : —within each book the pieces have therefore been arranged in gradations of feeling or subject . And it is hoped that the contents of this Anthology will thus be found to present a ...
Side
... pleasure in any of its more elevated and permanent forms . - And if this be true of even mediocre poetry , for how much more are we indebted to the best ! Like the fabled fountain of the Azores , but with a more various power , the ...
... pleasure in any of its more elevated and permanent forms . - And if this be true of even mediocre poetry , for how much more are we indebted to the best ! Like the fabled fountain of the Azores , but with a more various power , the ...
Side 5
... pleasures prove That hills and valleys , dale and field , And all the craggy mountains yield . There will we sit upon the rocks And see the shepherds feed their flocks , By shallow rivers , to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals ...
... pleasures prove That hills and valleys , dale and field , And all the craggy mountains yield . There will we sit upon the rocks And see the shepherds feed their flocks , By shallow rivers , to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals ...
Andre udgaver - Se alle
Almindelige termer og sætninger
Arethuse beauty beneath birds bonnie bower breast breath bright Brignall brow cheek clouds County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dream earth ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA eyes F. T. PALGRAVE fair Fancy fear flowers frae FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE gentle glory golden Gray green H. F. Lyte happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill kiss leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Byron Love's Lycidas lyre LYRICAL maid mind morn mountains Muse ne'er never night Nymph o'er P. B. Shelley pale passion Pindar pleasure poem Poetry poets rose round seem'd shade Shakespeare sigh silent 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 white-thorn wild winds wings Wordsworth Yarrow youth
Populære passager
Side 208 - 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 332 - O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Side 77 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere: A lily of a day Is fairer far in May; Although it fall and die that night, It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see, And in short measures life may perfect be.
Side 308 - But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
Side 12 - 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 287 - Will no one tell me what she sings? — Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago: Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again?
Side 280 - Darkling I listen ; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I...
Side 276 - We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. 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 ! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know,...
Side 4 - 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 20 - 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.