The Sibyl: Or, New Oracles from the PoetsCaroline Howard Gilman Wiley and Putnam, 1848 - 313 psl. |
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33 psl.
... feeling , Only smiles like yours such feeling tell ; Touch the chord of grief , and at the spell , Tears of love and innocence are stealing . J. G. PERCIVAL . 6. The queen of loveliness , thou art no less The queen of modesty and maiden ...
... feeling , Only smiles like yours such feeling tell ; Touch the chord of grief , and at the spell , Tears of love and innocence are stealing . J. G. PERCIVAL . 6. The queen of loveliness , thou art no less The queen of modesty and maiden ...
38 psl.
... feel one envy burn , And sleep without a sigh on your return . BROWN - Paradise of Coquettes . 29. Your ready fingers ply with equal skill The pencil's task , the needle , or the quill ; Poised all your feelings , still composed your ...
... feel one envy burn , And sleep without a sigh on your return . BROWN - Paradise of Coquettes . 29. Your ready fingers ply with equal skill The pencil's task , the needle , or the quill ; Poised all your feelings , still composed your ...
49 psl.
... feeling warm , While mind informs the whole ; With mind her mantling cheek doth glow , Her voice , her beaming eye , still show An all - inspiring soul . 8 . FRISBIE . When first I saw her , Her dark and eloquent eyes , mild , full of ...
... feeling warm , While mind informs the whole ; With mind her mantling cheek doth glow , Her voice , her beaming eye , still show An all - inspiring soul . 8 . FRISBIE . When first I saw her , Her dark and eloquent eyes , mild , full of ...
81 psl.
... her beauty . HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 13. Her sweet affections , free as wind , Nor fear nor craving feel ; No secret hollow has her mind For passion to reveal . HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 2 14 . She is a child in years , And 81.
... her beauty . HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 13. Her sweet affections , free as wind , Nor fear nor craving feel ; No secret hollow has her mind For passion to reveal . HARTLEY COLERIDGE . 2 14 . She is a child in years , And 81.
84 psl.
... feel , " Tis the mind of light , and the spirit free , And the bosom that heaves alone for thee . 26. Though time her bloom is stealing , There's still beyond his art― The wild flower wreath of feeling , The sunbeam of the heart . DRAKE ...
... feel , " Tis the mind of light , and the spirit free , And the bosom that heaves alone for thee . 26. Though time her bloom is stealing , There's still beyond his art― The wild flower wreath of feeling , The sunbeam of the heart . DRAKE ...
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ALLAN CUNNINGHAM BARRETT-The BARRY CORNWALL beauty BEN JONSON beneath bird bloom blossom blue blushing bower breath breeze bright brow BURNS CARLOS WILCOX charm cheek clouds COLERIDGE CRABBE CRABBE-Tales dark deep doth dwell earth ELIZA COOK eyes face FANNY KEMBLE flowers gentle Gentlemen of Verona grace green hair HALLECK happy HARTLEY COLERIDGE hath hear heart heaven HORNE-Orion LADY LADY-LOVE LEIGH HUNT light lily lips look Love's Labor Lost Merchant of Venice merry mind MISS BARRETT morning MOTHERWELL MOULTRIE-The Dream N. P. WILLIS NICOLL night noble o'er OSGOOD passion Poems by Amelia Poets PRAED PRAED-The pure R. H. DANA rose round shade shines sigh sings smile soft song soul spirit Spring star stream Summer sweet TAYLOR-Philip Van Artevelde tender thee thine things thou thought Timon toil trees trembling truth voice walk wave wild wind wings Winter's Tale WORDSWORTH young youth
Populiarios ištraukos
245 psl. - Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company! To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay!
230 psl. - Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
103 psl. - Familiar as his garter: that, when he speaks, The air, a charter'd libertine, is still, And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences...
147 psl. - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
101 psl. - This should have been a noble creature : he Hath all the energy which would have made A goodly frame of glorious elements, Had they been wisely mingled ; as it is, It is an awful chaos light and darkness And mind and dust and passions and pure thoughts, Mix'd, and contending without end or order, All dormant or destructive...
144 psl. - There stands the messenger of truth : there stands The legate of the skies ! His theme divine, His office sacred, his credentials clear. By him the violated law speaks out Its thunders ; and by him, in strains as sweet As angels use, the Gospel whispers peace.
94 psl. - Biron they call him ; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal : His eye begets occasion for his wit ; For every object that the one doth catch The other turns to a mirth-moving jest...
251 psl. - I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea.
85 psl. - For calling up that spot of joy. She had A heart . . . how shall I say? . . . too soon made glad, Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er She looked on, and her looks went everywhere. Sir, 'twas all one!
59 psl. - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powdered, still perfumed: Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face; That makes simplicity a grace ; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : Such sweet neglect more taketh me, Than all the adulteries of art ; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.