Choice descriptive poetry, selected by a lady |
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Стр. 3
... o'er sands of gold , Where the burning rays of the ruby shine , And the diamond lights up the secret mine , And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand ; Is it there , sweet mother , that better land ? Not there , not there , my ...
... o'er sands of gold , Where the burning rays of the ruby shine , And the diamond lights up the secret mine , And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand ; Is it there , sweet mother , that better land ? Not there , not there , my ...
Стр. 4
... ye conquerors ! Steep in her blood your swords ; And raze to earth her battlements , For they are not the Lord's ; Tell Zion's mournful daughter , O'er kindred bones she'll tread The Destruction of Jerusalem My Father's Name.
... ye conquerors ! Steep in her blood your swords ; And raze to earth her battlements , For they are not the Lord's ; Tell Zion's mournful daughter , O'er kindred bones she'll tread The Destruction of Jerusalem My Father's Name.
Стр. 5
... O'er all her mourners ' eyes : And on her mountains beauteous stand The messengers of peace : " Salvation by the Lord's right hand ! " They shout , and never cease . THE SOLDIER'S FUNERAL . MORE . -AND the muffled drum roll'd on the air ...
... O'er all her mourners ' eyes : And on her mountains beauteous stand The messengers of peace : " Salvation by the Lord's right hand ! " They shout , and never cease . THE SOLDIER'S FUNERAL . MORE . -AND the muffled drum roll'd on the air ...
Стр. 6
... O'er the green grass turf of the soldier's sleep ! The bugles ceas'd their wailing sound As the coffin was lower'd ... o'er his only Son ! LITERARY GAZETTE . THE HOMES OF ENGLAND . THE stately homes of England , How beautiful they stand ...
... O'er the green grass turf of the soldier's sleep ! The bugles ceas'd their wailing sound As the coffin was lower'd ... o'er his only Son ! LITERARY GAZETTE . THE HOMES OF ENGLAND . THE stately homes of England , How beautiful they stand ...
Стр. 7
... o'er the silvery brooks , And round the hamlet fanes . Through glowing orchards forth they peep , Each from its nook of leaves , And fearless there the lowly sleep , As the bird beneath their eaves . The free , fair homes of England ...
... o'er the silvery brooks , And round the hamlet fanes . Through glowing orchards forth they peep , Each from its nook of leaves , And fearless there the lowly sleep , As the bird beneath their eaves . The free , fair homes of England ...
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
angel Art Thou ask'd beauty behold beneath beneath the sky BERNARD BARTON bless blest bliss bloom breath breeze bright celestial child dead dear death deep delight DESCRIPTIVE POETRY dust to dust dwell Earth to earth earthly eternal fair Father Father's Name flood flowers glorious glory grace grave green happiest happy hath hear heart heaven heavenly holy homes of England hour humble Israel Jesus Learn to labour life's light live Lord loves me best MILLENNIAL SABBATH mountains moving heart night night into morning o'er pass'd path peace perfect bliss praise pray prayer reign rest rise round sabbath bell sacred Saviour's shine shore sleep smile song soul Speak gently spirit star by star storm stormy tempests blow strange hills sweet tear tell thee thine Thou art thought throne Thy neighbour toil tomb trees Twas voice
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 73 - O Caledonia ! stern and wild, meet nurse for a poetic child, • land of brown heath and shaggy wood, land of the mountain and the flood, land of my sires!
Стр. 33 - But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white, then melts forever; Or like the borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place ; Or like the rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm. Nae man can tether time or tide ; The hour approaches Tam maun ride; That hour, o...
Стр. 34 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal ; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Стр. 37 - Abide with me from morn till eve, For without Thee I cannot live ; Abide with me when night is nigh, For without Thee I dare not die.
Стр. 43 - They sin who tell us love can die. With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity. In heaven ambition cannot dwell, Nor avarice in the vaults of hell; Earthly these passions of the earth, They perish where they have their birth. But love is indestructible— Its holy flame for ever burneth ; From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.