A household book of English poetry, selected with notes by R.C. Trench |
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Página 14
... temperate heat where he is felt and seen ; In presence prest of people , mad or
wise ; Set me in high , or yet in low degree ; In longest night , or in the shortest
day ; In clearest sky , or where clouds thickest be ; In lusty youth , or when my
hairs ...
... temperate heat where he is felt and seen ; In presence prest of people , mad or
wise ; Set me in high , or yet in low degree ; In longest night , or in the shortest
day ; In clearest sky , or where clouds thickest be ; In lusty youth , or when my
hairs ...
Página 23
... move , To come to thee , and be thy love . What should we talk of dainties then ,
Of better meat than ' s fit for men ? These are but vain : that ' s only good Which
God hath blessed and sent for food . But could youth last , and love still breed ...
... move , To come to thee , and be thy love . What should we talk of dainties then ,
Of better meat than ' s fit for men ? These are but vain : that ' s only good Which
God hath blessed and sent for food . But could youth last , and love still breed ...
Página 29
From you have I been absent in the spring , When proud - pied April , dressed in
all his trim , Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing , That heavy Saturn laughed
and leaped with him . Yet nor the lays of birds , nor the sweet smell Of different ...
From you have I been absent in the spring , When proud - pied April , dressed in
all his trim , Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing , That heavy Saturn laughed
and leaped with him . Yet nor the lays of birds , nor the sweet smell Of different ...
Página 30
Sweet roses do not so ; Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made : And so
of you , beauteous and lovely youth , When that shall vade , by verse distils your
truth . William Shakespeare . XXXI SONNET . A good that never satisfies the ...
Sweet roses do not so ; Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made : And so
of you , beauteous and lovely youth , When that shall vade , by verse distils your
truth . William Shakespeare . XXXI SONNET . A good that never satisfies the ...
Página 32
... clouds for joy in pearls weep down their showers , Thou turn ' st , sweet youth ;
but ah ! my pleasant hours 5 And happy days with thee come not again ; The sad
memorials only of my pain Do with thee come , which turn my sweets to sours .
... clouds for joy in pearls weep down their showers , Thou turn ' st , sweet youth ;
but ah ! my pleasant hours 5 And happy days with thee come not again ; The sad
memorials only of my pain Do with thee come , which turn my sweets to sours .
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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 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 wild 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...
Información bibliográfica
| Título | A household book of English poetry, selected with notes by R.C. Trench |
| Editor | Richard Chenevix Trench (abp. of Dublin) |
| Publicado | 1868 |
| Procedencia del original | Universidad de Oxford |
| Digitalizado | 7 Ago. 2006 |
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