The Book of Gems: Wordsworth to BaylySamuel Carter Hall Saunders and Otley, 1838 |
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71 psl.
... tender blossoms are ! How delicate thy gauzy frill ! How rich thy branchy stem ! How soft thy voice , when woods are still , And thou sing'st hymns to them ; While silent showers are falling slow , And ' mid the general hush , A sweet ...
... tender blossoms are ! How delicate thy gauzy frill ! How rich thy branchy stem ! How soft thy voice , when woods are still , And thou sing'st hymns to them ; While silent showers are falling slow , And ' mid the general hush , A sweet ...
75 psl.
... tender tale Of faithful vows repaid by cruel scorn , A tale of true love , or of friend forgot ; And I would teach thee , lady , how to rail In gentle sort , on those who practise not Or love or pity , though of woman born . WHEN last I ...
... tender tale Of faithful vows repaid by cruel scorn , A tale of true love , or of friend forgot ; And I would teach thee , lady , how to rail In gentle sort , on those who practise not Or love or pity , though of woman born . WHEN last I ...
120 psl.
... tender ; and his hair grew in delicate brown ringlets , of remarkable beauty . Mr. Keats may truly be pronounced a Poet of the most poetical order , for he gave himself up entirely to the beautiful , and had powers of expression equal ...
... tender ; and his hair grew in delicate brown ringlets , of remarkable beauty . Mr. Keats may truly be pronounced a Poet of the most poetical order , for he gave himself up entirely to the beautiful , and had powers of expression equal ...
122 psl.
... tender is the night , And haply the Queen - Moon is on her throne , Cluster'd around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light , Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown I cannot see what flowers are at my feet ...
... tender is the night , And haply the Queen - Moon is on her throne , Cluster'd around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light , Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown I cannot see what flowers are at my feet ...
152 psl.
... tender , graceful , and affectionate effusions of the Poet . He is only at home where the Heart presides . In the earlier part of his career , his opinions were assailed with the severest hostility . He has outlived the animosity to ...
... tender , graceful , and affectionate effusions of the Poet . He is only at home where the Heart presides . In the earlier part of his career , his opinions were assailed with the severest hostility . He has outlived the animosity to ...
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Allan Cunningham Barry Cornwall beautiful beneath bird born bower breast breath bright brow calm Charles Dibdin Charles Lamb child clouds cold dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth fair fame fancy farewell feel flowers friends genius gentle glad graceful grave green happy hath hear heard heart heaven Henry Kirke White holy orders hope human labour Leigh Hunt light living lonely look Lord Lord Byron maid merry heart mind mother mountain nature ne'er never night numbers o'er pale passion Pindar poems Poet poetry popularity rose round scarcely shade sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star stream sweet tears tender thee thine things Thomas Hood thou art thought Twas verse voice Walter Savage Landor wander waves weary weep wild wind wings writings young youth
Populiarios ištraukos
34 psl. - I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams ; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under; And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
7 psl. - ... their state shall lend To her ; for her the willow bend ; Nor shall she fail to see, Even in the motions of the Storm, Grace that shall mould the Maiden's form By silent sympathy. " The stars of midnight shall be dear To her ; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
39 psl. - What thou art we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody. Like a poet hidden, In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...
9 psl. - MILTON ! thou shouldst be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
9 psl. - The world is too much with us. The world is too much with us ; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers ; Little we see in Nature that is ours ; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us not.
47 psl. - Then suddenly, with timorous eye She fled to me and wept. She half enclosed me with her arms, She pressed me with a meek embrace; And bending back her head, looked up, And gazed upon my face. 'Twas partly love, and partly fear, And partly 'twas a bashful art, That I might rather feel, than see, The swelling of her heart.
40 psl. - Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view...
8 psl. - It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven is on the Sea: Listen!
6 psl. - Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy! Hence, in a season of calm weather, Though inland far we be, Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the Children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
6 psl. - Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower ; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind...