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" She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew I could not choose But gaze upon her face. I told her of the knight that wore Upon his shield a burning brand ; And that for ten long years he wooed The lady of... "
Chambers's Miscellany of Instructive & Entertaining Tracts - Side 15
redigeret af - 1870
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

The Book of Gems: Wordsworth to Bayly

Samuel Carter Hall - 1838
...ling'ring light. Few sorrows hath she of her own. My hope, my joy, my Genevieve ! She loves me hest, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I...an old and moving story — An old rude song that fitted well The ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

The poetical and dramatic works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Samuel Taylor [poetical works] Coleridge - 1838 - 464 sider
...ling'ring light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy, ray Genevieve ! She loves me hest, whene'er I sing The songs, that make her grieve. I...air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude sang that fitted well The ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

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

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1838 - 603 sider
...old and moving story — An old rude song, that fitted well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest...well she knew, I could not choose But gaze upon her lace. I told her of the Knight that wore Upon his shield a burning brand ; And how for ten long years...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

The New Monthly Belle Assemblée, Bind 19

...She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs tbat make her grieve. I played a soft and doleful air, l sang an old and moving story — An old rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew I could not...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

The Young Lady's Reader

Louisa Caroline Tuthill - 1839 - 458 sider
...my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope! my joy! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I played a soft and doleful air, 1 sang an old and moving story — An old rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

Calcutta Monthly Journal and General Register ...

1839
...and, ah ! The deep, the low, tht pleading tone With which I sung another's tuie. Interpreted myoiotu She listened with a flitting blush ; With down-cast eyes and modest grace ; Anil she forgave me, that 1 gated TaoJoHdtyoH her Jace. The book fell from my hand ; I could not...
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The North American Review, Bind 50

Jared Sparks, Edward Everett, Henry Cabot Lodge, James Russell Lowell - 1840
...tenderness, of thoughtfulness, not mournful but akin to melancholy, will make the two seem as sisters. " Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy,...best whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve." — " No, never came from aught beloy This melody of woe, That makes my heart to overflow, As from...
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Selections from the British Poets, Bind 2

Fitz-Greene Halleck - 1840
...my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude song, that suited well...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

The Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Prose and Verse: Complete in One Volume

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1840 - 546 sider
...cruel wrongs Befell the Dark Ladic. Few Sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy, my Genevieve! BH5/ All thoughts, all passions, all delight*, Whatever stir this mortal frame, All are but ministers of...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog

The North American Review, Bind 50

Jared Sparks, Edward Everett, James Russell Lowell, Henry Cabot Lodge - 1840
...will make the two seem as sisters. " Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy, my Genevieve ; She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve." — " No, never came from aught below This melody of woe, That/makes my heart to overflow, As from...
Fuld visning - Om denne bog




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