A household book of English poetry, selected with notes by R.C. Trench |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 54
Página 3
5 For as the seeds , in springtime sown , Die in the ground ere they be grown ;
Such is conceit , whose rooting fails , As child that in the cradle quails ; Or else
within the mother ' s womb Hath his beginning , and his tomb . 10 Affection
follows ...
5 For as the seeds , in springtime sown , Die in the ground ere they be grown ;
Such is conceit , whose rooting fails , As child that in the cradle quails ; Or else
within the mother ' s womb Hath his beginning , and his tomb . 10 Affection
follows ...
Página 5
... bees have stings , although they be not great . Seas have their surges , so
have shallow springs ; And love is love , in beggars as in kings . , 5 Where rivers
smoothest run , deep are the fords ; of English Poetry .
... bees have stings , although they be not great . Seas have their surges , so
have shallow springs ; And love is love , in beggars as in kings . , 5 Where rivers
smoothest run , deep are the fords ; of English Poetry .
Página 23
... and rocks grow cold ; Then Philomel becometh dumb , The rest complains of
cares to come . The flowers do fade , and wanton fields To wayward winter
reckoning yields ; A honey tongue , a heart of gall , Is fancy ' s spring , but sorrow '
s fall .
... and rocks grow cold ; Then Philomel becometh dumb , The rest complains of
cares to come . The flowers do fade , and wanton fields To wayward winter
reckoning yields ; A honey tongue , a heart of gall , Is fancy ' s spring , but sorrow '
s fall .
Página 25
These dull notes we sing Discords need for helps to grace them ; Only beauty
purely loving Knows no discord ; Io But still moves delight , Like clear springs
renewed by flowing , Ever perfect , ever in themselves eternal . Thomas Campion
.
These dull notes we sing Discords need for helps to grace them ; Only beauty
purely loving Knows no discord ; Io But still moves delight , Like clear springs
renewed by flowing , Ever perfect , ever in themselves eternal . Thomas Campion
.
Página 26
... Maiden - pinks , of odour faint ; Daisies smell - less , yet most quaint , And
sweet thyme true ; Primrose , first - born child of Ver , Merry spring - time ' s
harbinger , With her bells dim ; Oxlips in their cradles growing , Marigolds on
death - beds ...
... Maiden - pinks , of odour faint ; Daisies smell - less , yet most quaint , And
sweet thyme true ; Primrose , first - born child of Ver , Merry spring - time ' s
harbinger , With her bells dim ; Oxlips in their cradles growing , Marigolds on
death - beds ...
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Términos y frases comunes
appear bear beauty beneath bird breath bright clear cloth clouds dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth Edition English eyes face fair fall fear flow flowers give glory gone grace grave green grow hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven hope hour John King land leaves less light lines live look Lord mind morn mother nature never night o'er once passed peace pleasure poem poet praise rest rise rose round seemed seen shine sight sing sleep smile song soon sorrow soul sound spirit spring stand stars sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought trees true turn voice waves weep wind wonder woods youth
Pasajes populares
Página 215 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree ; Another came : nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he : The next, with dirges due in sad array Slow through the churchway path we saw him borne, — Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Página 286 - Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth ! 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...
Página 215 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Página 250 - The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Página 273 - Of all this unintelligible world. Is lightened:— that serene and blessed mood. In which the affections gently lead us on.— Until. the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended. we are laid asleep In body. and become a living soul: While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony. and the deep power of joy. We see into the life of things.
Página 345 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Página 144 - Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 70 (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights and live laborious days; But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, And slits the thin-spun life.
Página 381 - And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Página 51 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate; Death lays his icy hand on kings. Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Página 32 - Nay I have done, you get no more of me; And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free ; Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain. Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath, When his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies, '° When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And Innocence is closing up his eyes: Now if thou would'st, when all have given...