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ancient arms ballads Baron beautiful beneath body breath bright castle character church close comes cross dark dead death delight door dreams earth entered eyes face fall feeling figure Flemming friar German give grave green hand head hear heard heart heaven hill holy hour human imagination Italy king lady land leaves length light live look Martin Franc mind morning mountain nature never night once passed poet poor postilion rising round ruins Saint scene seemed seen shadow side silent singing sleep song soon soul sound spirit stands stars stood strange street sweet tell thee things thou thought tower traveller trees turned valley village voice walk walls whole wind window young
Página 232 - He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know At first sight if the bird be flown; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown.
Página 148 - Fair stood the wind for France, When we our sails advance, Nor now to prove our chance Longer will tarry ; But, putting to the main, At Kaux, the mouth of Seine, With all his martial train, Landed King Harry...
Página 173 - My panting side was charged when I withdrew To seek a tranquil death in distant shades.^ There was I found by one who had himself Been hurt by the archers.
Página 173 - INTO the Silent Land ! Ah ! who shall lead us thither ? Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand. Who leads us with a gentle hand, Thither, O thither, Into the Silent Land...
Página 173 - O Land ! For all the broken-hearted The mildest herald by our fate allotted, Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand To lead us with a gentle hand Into the land of the great Departed, Into the Silent Land ;
Página 150 - No life, my honest scholar, no life so happy and so pleasant as the life of a well-governed angler; for when the lawyer is swallowed up with business, and the statesman is preventing or contriving plots, then we sit on cowslip banks, hear the birds sing, and possess ourselves in as much quietness as these silent silver streams, which we now see glide so quietly by us.
Página 232 - Like stars upon some gloomy grove, Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest After the sun's remove. I see them walking in an air of glory, Whose light doth trample on my days; 10 My days, which are at best but dull and hoary, Mere glimmerings and decays.
Página 31 - Alike all ages. Dames of ancient days Have led their children through the mirthful maze ; And the gay grandsire, skill'd in gestic lore, Has frisk'd beneath the burden of threescore.
Página 151 - Your voiceless lips, O flowers, are living preachers, Each cup a pulpit, every leaf a book, Supplying to my fancy numerous teachers From loneliest nook. Floral apostles, that, in dewy splendor, " Weep without woe, and blush without a crime," O, may I deeply learn, and ne'er surrender, Your lore sublime.