English Verse, 2 tomasWilliam James Linton, Richard Henry Stoddard C. Scribner's Sons, 1883 |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 32
13 psl.
... in waste woods , the blithe Euphrosyne . But the ringlets of that head , Why are they ungarlanded ? Why bedeck her temples less Than the simplest shepherdess ? Is it not a brow inviting Choicest flowers that ever WILLIAM WORDSWORTH . 13.
... in waste woods , the blithe Euphrosyne . But the ringlets of that head , Why are they ungarlanded ? Why bedeck her temples less Than the simplest shepherdess ? Is it not a brow inviting Choicest flowers that ever WILLIAM WORDSWORTH . 13.
14 psl.
William James Linton, Richard Henry Stoddard. Is it not a brow inviting Choicest flowers that ever breathed , Which the myrtle would delight in , With Idalian rose enwreathed ? But her humility is well content With one wild floweret ...
William James Linton, Richard Henry Stoddard. Is it not a brow inviting Choicest flowers that ever breathed , Which the myrtle would delight in , With Idalian rose enwreathed ? But her humility is well content With one wild floweret ...
16 psl.
... brow hath open'd on me see it there Brightening the umbrage of her hair ! So gleams the crescent moon , that loves To be descried through shady groves . Tenderest bloom is on her cheek : Wish not for a richer streak , Nor dread the ...
... brow hath open'd on me see it there Brightening the umbrage of her hair ! So gleams the crescent moon , that loves To be descried through shady groves . Tenderest bloom is on her cheek : Wish not for a richer streak , Nor dread the ...
32 psl.
... brow to braid , And press the rue for wine . A lightsome eye , a soldier's mien , A feather of the blue , A doublet of the Lincoln green , - No more of me you knew , My Love ! No more of me you knew . This morn is merry June , I trow ...
... brow to braid , And press the rue for wine . A lightsome eye , a soldier's mien , A feather of the blue , A doublet of the Lincoln green , - No more of me you knew , My Love ! No more of me you knew . This morn is merry June , I trow ...
41 psl.
... brow benign Receive a bosom tempest - toss'd , And bid it ever beat to thine ! The Nereid Maids , in days of yore , Saw the lost pilot loose the helm , Saw the wreck blacken all the shore , And every wave some head o'erwhelm . Afar ...
... brow benign Receive a bosom tempest - toss'd , And bid it ever beat to thine ! The Nereid Maids , in days of yore , Saw the lost pilot loose the helm , Saw the wreck blacken all the shore , And every wave some head o'erwhelm . Afar ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Anerley Bacchus Ballads beauty bells beneath Bessie Lee bird bloom blue Born bower Brahma breast breath bright brow cheek cloud Clovernook cold Dædalus dance dark dead dear death deep dost dreams dreary earth eyes face fair fall FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS flowers frae GEORGE GORDON BYRON glory golden gone grave Greece green hair hand happy happy land HARRIET MARTINEAU hast hath hear heart heaven hour kiss leaves light lips lonely look Love's lover Lyrical Ballads Lyrics maiden morning ne'er never night o'er ODE TO DUTY pain pale pass'd Peter Bell Pioneers Poems poet river rose round Samian wine shade shadow sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul stars strong summer Sundew sweet tears tell thee thine thou art thought tree Twas unto voice waves weary weep wild wind wine wings young
Populiarios ištraukos
9 psl. - THREE years she grew in sun and shower ; Then Nature said : " A lovelier flower On earth was never sown ; This child I to myself will take ; She shall be mine, and I will make A lady of my own. " Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse ; and with me The girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power, To kindle or restrain.
169 psl. - HEAR the sledges with the bells, Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
99 psl. - Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; And, happy melodist, unwearied, For ever piping songs for ever new; More happy love! more happy, happy love! For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd, For ever panting, and for ever young; All breathing human passion far above.
99 psl. - Who are these coming to the sacrifice ? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest ? What little town by river or sea-shore, Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn ? And, little town, thy streets for evermore Will silent be ; and not a soul to tell Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
173 psl. - Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil : Still as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new...
85 psl. - HAIL to thee, blithe spirit ! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire...
256 psl. - Till the sun grows cold, And the stars are old, And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold...
90 psl. - And noon lay heavy on flower and tree, And the weary Day turned to his rest, Lingering like an unloved guest, I sighed for thee. Thy brother Death came, and cried, Wouldst thou me? Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noontide bee, Shall I nestle near thy side? Wouldst thou me? — And I replied, No, not thee!
192 psl. - Never glad confident morning again ! Best fight on well, for we taught him — strike gallantly, Menace our heart ere we master his own; Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us, Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne ! 'HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX...
84 psl. - My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone!