A Book of British and American VerseHenry Van Dyke, Hardin Craig, Asa Don Dickinson Doubleday, Page, 1922 - Всего страниц: 1908 |
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Стр. 74
... song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly , Down to tower'd Camelot : And by the moon the reaper weary , Piling sheaves in uplands airy , Listening , whispers " T is the fairy Lady of Shalott . " PART II There she weaves ...
... song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly , Down to tower'd Camelot : And by the moon the reaper weary , Piling sheaves in uplands airy , Listening , whispers " T is the fairy Lady of Shalott . " PART II There she weaves ...
Стр. 78
... song , The Lady of Shalott . Heard a carol , mournful , holy , Chanted loudly , chanted lowly , Till her blood was frozen slowly And her eyes were darken'd wholly Turn'd to tower'd Camelot . For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first ...
... song , The Lady of Shalott . Heard a carol , mournful , holy , Chanted loudly , chanted lowly , Till her blood was frozen slowly And her eyes were darken'd wholly Turn'd to tower'd Camelot . For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first ...
Стр. 138
... song Made merriment within that pleasant bower , 92 The Knight , Sir Walter , died in course of time , And his bones lie in his paternal vale.— But there is matter for a second rhyme , And I to this would add another tale . 96 PART ...
... song Made merriment within that pleasant bower , 92 The Knight , Sir Walter , died in course of time , And his bones lie in his paternal vale.— But there is matter for a second rhyme , And I to this would add another tale . 96 PART ...
Стр. 151
... song and feast shall flow To the fame of your name , When the storm has ceased to blow ; When the fiery fight is heard no more , And the storm has ceased to blow . Thomas Campbell . 30 40 THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS IN NEW ...
... song and feast shall flow To the fame of your name , When the storm has ceased to blow ; When the fiery fight is heard no more , And the storm has ceased to blow . Thomas Campbell . 30 40 THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS IN NEW ...
Стр. 194
... SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS Now glory to the Lord of Hosts , from whom all glories are ! And glory to our Sovereign Liege , King Henry of Navarre ! Now let there be the merry sound of music and 194 Little Masterpieces of English Poetry ...
... SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS Now glory to the Lord of Hosts , from whom all glories are ! And glory to our Sovereign Liege , King Henry of Navarre ! Now let there be the merry sound of music and 194 Little Masterpieces of English Poetry ...
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Annabel Lee auld beauty bells bird blood blow blue bonny breath bride bright cheek cried dark Dark Rosaleen dead dear death deep doth dream earth eyes face fair fear fell flowers frae Glenkindie grace gray green grew hair hame hand hath hear heard heart heaven Henry Wadsworth Longfellow HIND HORN Kemp Owyne Kilmeny king kiss knee lady Lady of Shalott land light lips live look Lord Lord Tennyson loud maiden moon morning ne'er never night o'er Percy Percy Bysshe Shelley quoth Robert Herrick Robin Hood rode rose round sail ship sigh sing Sir Launfal sleep smile song soul sound stars steed stood stream sweet tears tell thee thine thou art thought thro tree voice wave weel wild William William Shakespeare wind wings young young Beichan youth
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 104 - UNION, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate! We know what Master laid thy keel, What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Стр. 194 - s not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come ; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Стр. 198 - 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.
Стр. 234 - Hear the sledges with the bells, Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells.' How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars, that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Стр. 96 - I tripp'd lightly as they ; The innocent brightness of a new-born day Is lovely yet ; The clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality ; 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.
Стр. 202 - 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-labour, light denied?
Стр. 293 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore ! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Стр. 228 - If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home. And think, this heart, all evil shed away, A pulse in the eternal mind, no less Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given; Her sights and...
Стр. 216 - Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me? I have lived my life, and that which I have done May He within Himself make pure! but thou, If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend?
Стр. 165 - Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow : You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school, Look in at the open door ; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor.