Nightingale Valley: A Collection, Including a Great Number of the Choicest Lyrics and Short Poems in the English LanguageBell and Daldy, 1860 - 288 Seiten |
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Seite 12
... dead Is lying . Come , months , come away , From November to May , In your saddest array , - Follow the bier Of the dead cold year , And like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre . The chill rain is falling , the nipt worm is crawling ...
... dead Is lying . Come , months , come away , From November to May , In your saddest array , - Follow the bier Of the dead cold year , And like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre . The chill rain is falling , the nipt worm is crawling ...
Seite 13
... dead cold year , And make her grave green with tear on tear . SHELLEY . Y THE AMULET . OUR picture smiles as first it smiled , The ring you gave is still the same , Your letter tells , O changing child , No tidings since it came . Give ...
... dead cold year , And make her grave green with tear on tear . SHELLEY . Y THE AMULET . OUR picture smiles as first it smiled , The ring you gave is still the same , Your letter tells , O changing child , No tidings since it came . Give ...
Seite 16
... dead that ever I knew Going one by one and two by two . On they pass'd , and on they pass'd ; Townsfellows all from first to last ; Born in the moonlight of the lane , And quench'd 16 NIGHTINGALE VALLEY . Scott Chr Marlowe T Carlyle ...
... dead that ever I knew Going one by one and two by two . On they pass'd , and on they pass'd ; Townsfellows all from first to last ; Born in the moonlight of the lane , And quench'd 16 NIGHTINGALE VALLEY . Scott Chr Marlowe T Carlyle ...
Seite 17
... dead . A long , long crowd - where each seem'd lonely . And yet of them all there was one , one only , That raised a head , or look'd my way ; And she seem'd to linger , but might not stay . How long since I saw that fair pale face ! Ah ...
... dead . A long , long crowd - where each seem'd lonely . And yet of them all there was one , one only , That raised a head , or look'd my way ; And she seem'd to linger , but might not stay . How long since I saw that fair pale face ! Ah ...
Seite 23
... dead man's mass , As they pass'd the Chapel - Garth . They buried him at the mirk midnight , When the dew fell cold and still , When the aspen grey forgot to play , And the mist clung to the hill . 1 Saugh , " sally , " willow . 2 Ling ...
... dead man's mass , As they pass'd the Chapel - Garth . They buried him at the mirk midnight , When the dew fell cold and still , When the aspen grey forgot to play , And the mist clung to the hill . 1 Saugh , " sally , " willow . 2 Ling ...
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Nightingale Valley: A Collection, Including a Great Number of the Choicest ... William Allingham Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2018 |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Auld Robin Gray BALLAD bells bird bonnie bough bowers breast breath bright burning Busk chamber door cheek Clerk Saunders cold COLERIDGE dance dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth Edom Eugene Aram eyes fair fairy flowers frae Glen grave green grey hair hand happy HARTLEY COLERIDGE hath hear heart heaven heigh-ho hour kiss'd lady Lady Anne Lindsay lay a-thinking leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Randal loud lover melancholy merry mither morning mountain ne'er never Nevermore night o'er pale Quoth the raven Richard Lovelace river rose round sall seem'd shore sigh sing sleep smile soft song SONNET sorrow soul stars sweet tears tempests thee thine thou thought turn'd Twas unto verses violets wave weary weep wild WILLIAM ALLINGHAM WILLIAM BLAKE wind wings WORDSWORTH Yarrow
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 105 - Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For eve^r and for ever when I move. \j^ How dull it is to pause, to make an end, $> To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use ! As tho
Seite 96 - TIGER! Tiger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?
Seite 143 - Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hillside; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?
Seite 39 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn ; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! I remember, I remember...
Seite 85 - This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch...
Seite 142 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Seite 160 - IN Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round : And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
Seite 63 - GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he's a-getting; The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best, which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may...
Seite 25 - Her mantle laps Over my lady's wrist too much,' or 'Paint Must never hope to reproduce the faint Half-flush that dies along her throat.
Seite 141 - O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...