Palgrave's Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics ...Macmillan, 1903 |
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Página 2
... lost And breathe and walk again : 2 . 25 30 35 40 The meanest floweret of the vale , 45 The simplest note that swells the gale , The common sun , the air , the skies , To him are opening Paradise . T. Gray CLIII . ODE TO SIMPLICITY O ...
... lost And breathe and walk again : 2 . 25 30 35 40 The meanest floweret of the vale , 45 The simplest note that swells the gale , The common sun , the air , the skies , To him are opening Paradise . T. Gray CLIII . ODE TO SIMPLICITY O ...
Página 9
... lost companions of my tuneful art , Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes , Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart , Ye died amidst your dying country's cries— No more I weep ; They do not sleep ; On yonder cliffs , a griesly ...
... lost companions of my tuneful art , Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes , Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart , Ye died amidst your dying country's cries— No more I weep ; They do not sleep ; On yonder cliffs , a griesly ...
Página 10
... lost Arthur we bewail : - : - All hail , ye genuine kings ! Britannia's issue , hail ! 110 ' Girt with many a baron bold Sublime their starry fronts they rear ; And gorgeous dames , and statesmen old In bearded majesty , appear . In the ...
... lost Arthur we bewail : - : - All hail , ye genuine kings ! Britannia's issue , hail ! 110 ' Girt with many a baron bold Sublime their starry fronts they rear ; And gorgeous dames , and statesmen old In bearded majesty , appear . In the ...
Página 11
... lost in long futurity expire . Fond impious man , think'st thou yon sanguine cloud 135 Raised by thy breath , has quench'd the orb of day ? To - morrow he repairs the golden flood And warms the nations with redoubled ray . Enough for me ...
... lost in long futurity expire . Fond impious man , think'st thou yon sanguine cloud 135 Raised by thy breath , has quench'd the orb of day ? To - morrow he repairs the golden flood And warms the nations with redoubled ray . Enough for me ...
Página 12
... lost my father dear , My father dear , and brethren three . Their winding - sheet in the bluidy clay , Their graves are growing green to see : And by them lies the dearest lad That ever blest a woman's ee ! Now wae to thee , thou cruel ...
... lost my father dear , My father dear , and brethren three . Their winding - sheet in the bluidy clay , Their graves are growing green to see : And by them lies the dearest lad That ever blest a woman's ee ! Now wae to thee , thou cruel ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Aeneid Aeolian Aeschylus ancient baith ballad Bard beauty bonnie braes Burns called charm Collins Cowper dear death Duncan Eclogue Elegy English epithet eyes F. T. Palgrave Faerie Queen fair favourite flowers Georgics Golden Treasury Gray Gray's Greek green Hales heart Heaven Horace Il Penseroso Jean John Anderson King L'Allegro Latin leal lines living lourche Lucretius LXXXIX Lycidas Lycidas G. T. lyre lyric lyric poetry Mary melancholy metre Michael Macmillan Milton mind Muse night numbers o'er Paradise Lost Penseroso Pindar pleasure poem poetic poetry poets Pope Queen reign rhyme Scottish sense sewed shade Shakespeare simplicity sing sleep smile song Sophocles sorrow soul sound Spenser Spring stanza stream sweet tabby tear thee There's thou art thought thro Tovey Twas verb verse Virgil warbled weel Welsh wind wings word Wordsworth Yarrow
Pasajes populares
Página 41 - uuhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate ; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, 95 Some kindred spirit shall enquire thy fate,— Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, ' Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn ; 100
Página 25 - CLXXV. When lovely woman stoops ,to folly And finds too late that men betray,— What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, 5 To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover And wring his bosom,
Página 126 - While the cock with lively din Scatters the rear of darkness thin . . . Oft listening how the hounds and horn Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn." 20. lowly bed. "This probably refers to the humble couch on which they have spent the night; but it is meant to suggest the grave as well
Página 41 - The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, 70 Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray ; Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife
Página 17 - CLXV. LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE Toll for the Brave ! The brave that are no more ! All sunk beneath the wave Fast by their native shore ! A land-breeze shook the shrouds And she was overset; 10 Down went the Royal George, With all her crew complete. Toll for the brave ! His last sea-fight is fought, 15
Página 18 - His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak, She ran upon no rock. 20 His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen. When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men. Once dreaded by our
Página 41 - Some kindred spirit shall enquire thy fate,— Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, ' Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn ; 100
Página 45 - How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, 10 As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie ; For dear to me as light and life 15 Was my sweet Highland Mary. Our parting was fu
Página 38 - Thy dewy fingers draw While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont, And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve ! While Summer loves to sport Beneath thy lingering light; While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves ; 45 Or Winter, yelling through the troublous air Affrights thy shrinking train And rudely rends thy robes
Página 44 - 1 will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only Luve ! And fare thee weel awhile ! And I will come again, my Luve, 15 Tho' it were ten thousand mile. HIGHLAND MARY Ye banks and braes and streams around