Poetry for children, selected by W. Burdon, 681 leidimasWilliam Burdon 1805 |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 6
9 psl.
... these have anfwer'd thee . LUCY GRAY . OFT I had heard of Lucy Gray , And when I crofs'd the wild , I chanc'd to fee at break of day The folitary child . No mate , no comrade Lucy knew ; She dwelt on a wild moor , The sweetest thing ...
... these have anfwer'd thee . LUCY GRAY . OFT I had heard of Lucy Gray , And when I crofs'd the wild , I chanc'd to fee at break of day The folitary child . No mate , no comrade Lucy knew ; She dwelt on a wild moor , The sweetest thing ...
16 psl.
... Cumberland and Weftmoreland is a fhort and for the most part a steep narrow valley , with a stream running through it . Force is the word univerfally employed in these dialects for waterfall . II . Beneath a rock , upon the grafs , 16.
... Cumberland and Weftmoreland is a fhort and for the most part a steep narrow valley , with a stream running through it . Force is the word univerfally employed in these dialects for waterfall . II . Beneath a rock , upon the grafs , 16.
25 psl.
... these flowers they have . no peers , And that green corn all day is ruftling in thy ears . If the fun is fhining hot , do but stretch thy wool- len chain , This beech is ftanding by , its covert thou can't gain , C For rain and mountain ...
... these flowers they have . no peers , And that green corn all day is ruftling in thy ears . If the fun is fhining hot , do but stretch thy wool- len chain , This beech is ftanding by , its covert thou can't gain , C For rain and mountain ...
64 psl.
... villain , -Man ! Yet be thy reft , thy vifions bleft , Bleft , though with grief I figh fincere ; Though oft these fighs for thee arife , Oft mingles with thy milk a tear . Oh could my breast thy bed of reft For ever 64.
... villain , -Man ! Yet be thy reft , thy vifions bleft , Bleft , though with grief I figh fincere ; Though oft these fighs for thee arife , Oft mingles with thy milk a tear . Oh could my breast thy bed of reft For ever 64.
74 psl.
... these— Why fhould I murmur at my fate ? There's Farmer Giles , tho ' rich of late , Is now reduc'd to bitter want : May Heav'n a speedy comfort grant ! Yet youth and vigour blefs my life ; And , God be prais'd ! I have no wife ; What ...
... these— Why fhould I murmur at my fate ? There's Farmer Giles , tho ' rich of late , Is now reduc'd to bitter want : May Heav'n a speedy comfort grant ! Yet youth and vigour blefs my life ; And , God be prais'd ! I have no wife ; What ...
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
afk'd ANDREW JONES beauty Befide Beneath bleft bloom bofom breaſt church-yard cold Corin cottage courſe Crocodile King crofs'd cry'd darling child delight door e'er ev'ry eyes fafe faid fair faſt feven fhall fhould fhout fide figh filent fing fkies flain fleep fmall fmile fnow fome fong foon forrow fpring fuch fummer fweet Goody Blake grafs green ground happy Harry Gill hear heard heart Heaven infolent Kilve lamb Lifwyn farm limbs little maid look'd Lucy Gray mind morning moſt mother muſt never NEWCASTLE UPON TYNE night o'er orphan boy pafs'd pleaſant pleaſure poor reaſon reft reſt riſe rofe ſaid ſaw ſay ſcarce ſee ſhe ſky ſmooth ſteep ſtill ſtock ſtood ſtopp'd ſtore ſtream ſweet teeth they chatter tell thee theſe thine thofe Thoſe thou track'd turn'd Twas villain,-Man Whofe worfe worſe Young Harry
Populiarios ištraukos
50 psl. - Then did the little maid reply, "Seven boys and girls are we; Two of us in the churchyard lie Beneath the churchyard tree.
8 psl. - The storm came on before its time : She wandered up and down ; And many a hill did Lucy climb ; But never reached the town.
28 psl. - tis to be an orphan boy. 0 were I by your bounty fed; — Nay, gentle lady, do not chide, Trust me, I mean to earn my bread — The sailor's orphan boy has pride. Lady, you weep!
45 psl. - No word to any man he utters, A-bed or up, to young or old ; But ever to himself he mutters, " Poor Harry Gill is very cold.'' A-bed or up, by night or day ; His teeth they chatter, chatter still. Now think, ye farmers all, I pray, Of Goody Blake and Harry Gill.
58 psl. - With you ! and quit my Susan's side ? With you ! " the hapless husband cried. " Young as I am, 'tis monstrous hard ! Besides, in truth, I'm not prepared; My thoughts on other matters go ; This is my wedding-day, you know.
24 psl. - Thou know'st that twice a day I have brought thee in this can Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever ran ; And twice in the day, when the ground is wet with dew, I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is and new.
77 psl. - 'Tis some poor fellow's skull,' said he, ' Who fell in the great victory. ' I find them in the garden, For there's many here about ; And often when I go to plough The ploughshare turns them out. For many thousand men,' said he, 'Were slain in that great victory.' ' Now tell us what 'twas all about...
40 psl. - The neighbors tell, and tell you truly, His teeth they chatter, chatter still. At night, at morning, and at noon, 'Tis all the same with Harry Gill; Beneath the sun, beneath the moon, His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
50 psl. - Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother; And, in the churchyard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother.
49 psl. - That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad: Her eyes were fair, and very fair; — Her beauty made me glad. 'Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?' 'How many? Seven in all,' she said, And wondering looked at me.