Palgrave's Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics ...Macmillan, 1903 |
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Página 2
... and pageant weeds , and trailing pall , But com'st , a decent maid In Attic robe array'd , O chaste , unboastful Nymph , to thee I call ! 5 10 15 20 By all the honey'd store On Hybla's thymy 2 THE GOLDEN TREASURY Ode to Simplicity,
... and pageant weeds , and trailing pall , But com'st , a decent maid In Attic robe array'd , O chaste , unboastful Nymph , to thee I call ! 5 10 15 20 By all the honey'd store On Hybla's thymy 2 THE GOLDEN TREASURY Ode to Simplicity,
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... thee . 20 25 25 30 A. Philips CLVIII . RULE BRITANNIA When Britain first at Heaven's command Arose from out the azure main , This was the charter of her land , And guardian angels sung the strain : Rule , Britannia ! Britannia rules the ...
... thee . 20 25 25 30 A. Philips CLVIII . RULE BRITANNIA When Britain first at Heaven's command Arose from out the azure main , This was the charter of her land , And guardian angels sung the strain : Rule , Britannia ! Britannia rules the ...
Página 8
... thee , oh King ! their hundred arms they wave , Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe ; Vocal no more , since Cambria's fatal day , To high - born Hoel's harp , or soft Llewellyn's lay . ' Cold is Cadwallo's tongue , That hush'd ...
... thee , oh King ! their hundred arms they wave , Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe ; Vocal no more , since Cambria's fatal day , To high - born Hoel's harp , or soft Llewellyn's lay . ' Cold is Cadwallo's tongue , That hush'd ...
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... thee be born , who o'er thy country hangs The scourge of heaven ! What terrors round him wait ! Amazement in his van , with flight combined , And sorrow's faded form , and solitude behind . ' Mighty victor , mighty lord , Low on his ...
... thee be born , who o'er thy country hangs The scourge of heaven ! What terrors round him wait ! Amazement in his van , with flight combined , And sorrow's faded form , and solitude behind . ' Mighty victor , mighty lord , Low on his ...
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... thee , thou cruel lord , A bluidy man I trow thou be ; For mony a heart thou hast made sair That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee . W. Collins 10 CLXI . 5 10 15 R. Burns CLXII . LAMENT FOR FLODDEN I've heard them lilting at our ewe ...
... thee , thou cruel lord , A bluidy man I trow thou be ; For mony a heart thou hast made sair That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee . W. Collins 10 CLXI . 5 10 15 R. Burns CLXII . LAMENT FOR FLODDEN I've heard them lilting at our ewe ...
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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