New Elegant Extracts: A Unique Selection from the Most Eminent British Poets and Poetical Translators, Band 2Richard Alfred Davenport C. and C. Whittingham, 1823 |
Im Buch
Ergebnisse 1-5 von 50
Seite 9
... sounds , Or lurking peasant lops an oak Restraining half his pilfering stroke , Or with his faggot stoops to rest Both by his years and burden press'd . Here , seen of old , the elfin race With sprightly vigils mark'd the place ; Their ...
... sounds , Or lurking peasant lops an oak Restraining half his pilfering stroke , Or with his faggot stoops to rest Both by his years and burden press'd . Here , seen of old , the elfin race With sprightly vigils mark'd the place ; Their ...
Seite 10
... sounds his clarion loud , and thrills The moonbright lawns and shadowy hills . Silent the choral fays attend , And then their silver voices blend , Each shining thread of sound prolong , And weave the magic woof of song . Pleased ...
... sounds his clarion loud , and thrills The moonbright lawns and shadowy hills . Silent the choral fays attend , And then their silver voices blend , Each shining thread of sound prolong , And weave the magic woof of song . Pleased ...
Seite 24
... , thy humbler votary , shower The balmy dews of every flower , Which oft thy curious hand has twined Thy Burdett's favour'd brows to bind ! 1 PART V. WHENCE , Needwood , that tremendous sound 24 P. III . ELEGANT EXTRACTS .
... , thy humbler votary , shower The balmy dews of every flower , Which oft thy curious hand has twined Thy Burdett's favour'd brows to bind ! 1 PART V. WHENCE , Needwood , that tremendous sound 24 P. III . ELEGANT EXTRACTS .
Seite 25
... sound ? — -Low dying murmurs run around , A deeper gloom the wood receives , And horror shivers on the leaves , Loud shrieks the hern , the raven croaks- Destruction's arm * arrests thy oaks ! Onward with giant strides he towers , Dooms ...
... sound ? — -Low dying murmurs run around , A deeper gloom the wood receives , And horror shivers on the leaves , Loud shrieks the hern , the raven croaks- Destruction's arm * arrests thy oaks ! Onward with giant strides he towers , Dooms ...
Seite 42
... sound , it hurries , till it falls Foaming in the wild stream that winds below , Dark trees , that to the mountain's height ascend , O'ershade with pendent boughs its mossy course , And , looking up , the eye beholds it flash Beneath ...
... sound , it hurries , till it falls Foaming in the wild stream that winds below , Dark trees , that to the mountain's height ascend , O'ershade with pendent boughs its mossy course , And , looking up , the eye beholds it flash Beneath ...
Inhalt
118 | |
125 | |
131 | |
139 | |
146 | |
160 | |
171 | |
177 | |
186 | |
192 | |
193 | |
207 | |
273 | |
280 | |
286 | |
290 | |
297 | |
303 | |
310 | |
343 | |
351 | |
358 | |
368 | |
375 | |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
amid ANNA SEWARD beauty behold beneath bids birds bless'd bliss bloom blush bosom bowers breast breath bright brow CHARLOTTE SMITH charms cheek cheer clouds cold coursers Cupid and Psyche dark deep delight dews doth dream earth fair faithless fancy fear flame flowers fond gale gaze gentle GISBORNE glade gleams glow golden grace green grove hand harp hear heart heaven hills Hinderwell hour Hygeia light lone loud Lubberkin maid melancholy morn mountain Muse Needwood Forest night nymph o'er pale pass'd plain press'd pride rapture rill rise rocks rose round rude Scarborough Castle scene seem'd shade shalt shine sigh silent silvan silver sing skies smile soft song soul spread spring storm stream sweet Thammuz thee thine thou thrice tower Tutbury Castle vale vex'd voice wake wandering wanton warm waves ween wild wind wing woods youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 278 - Come, my Corinna, come; and, coming, mark How each field turns a street, each street a park Made green and trimm'd with trees : see how Devotion gives each house a bough Or branch : each porch, each door ere this An ark, a tabernacle is, Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove; As if here were those cooler shades of love.
Seite 307 - The moonshine stealing o'er the scene Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve! She leaned against the armed man, The statue of the armed knight; She stood and listened to my lay, Amid the lingering light.
Seite 127 - Then shakes his powder'd coat, and barks for joy. Heedless of all his pranks, the sturdy churl Moves right toward the mark; nor stops for aught, But now and then with pressure of his thumb To adjust the fragrant charge of a short tube, That fumes beneath his nose : the trailing cloud Streams far behind him, scenting all the air.
Seite 91 - Quietly as a sleeping Infant's breath, Send up cold waters to the Traveller With soft and even Pulse ! Nor ever cease Yon tiny Cone of Sand its soundless Dance, Which at the Bottom, like a Fairy's Page, As merry and no taller, dances still, Nor wrinkles the smooth Surface of the Fount. Here Twilight is and Coolness : here is Moss, A soft Seat, and a deep and ample Shade, Thou may'st toil far and find no second Tree.
Seite 234 - When to myself I act and smile, With pleasing thoughts the time beguile, By a brook side or wood so green, Unheard, unsought for, or unseen, A thousand pleasures do me bless, And crown my soul with happiness. All my joys besides are folly, None so sweet as melancholy.
Seite 188 - You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own; What are you when the rose is blown? 39 So, when my mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind, By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, Tell me, if she were not design'd Th' eclipse and glory of her kind?
Seite 144 - O, friendly to the best pursuits of man, Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to peace...
Seite 306 - All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve!
Seite 188 - You meaner beauties of the night, That poorly satisfy our eyes More by your number than your light, You common people of the skies; What are you when the moon shall rise?
Seite 283 - Of rural younglings raise the shout, Pressing before, some coming after: Those with a shout, and these with laughter. Some bless the cart; some kiss the sheaves; Some prank them up with oaken leaves; *° Some...