Little Classics: Poems, lyricalRossiter Johnson J.R. Osgood, 1875 |
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12 psl.
... crown of sorrow is remembering happier things . Drug thy memories , lest thou learn it , lest thy heart be put to proof , In the dead unhappy night , and when the rain is on the roof . Like a dog , he hunts in dreams , and thou art ...
... crown of sorrow is remembering happier things . Drug thy memories , lest thou learn it , lest thy heart be put to proof , In the dead unhappy night , and when the rain is on the roof . Like a dog , he hunts in dreams , and thou art ...
87 psl.
... Nor steep our brows in slumber's holy balm ; Nor hearken what the inner spirit sings , " There is no joy but calm ! " Why should we only toil , the roof and crown of things ? III . Lo ! in the middle of the wood THE LOTOS - EATERS . 87.
... Nor steep our brows in slumber's holy balm ; Nor hearken what the inner spirit sings , " There is no joy but calm ! " Why should we only toil , the roof and crown of things ? III . Lo ! in the middle of the wood THE LOTOS - EATERS . 87.
94 psl.
... crowns his feast with wine and wit , - Who brought him to that mirth and state ? His betters , see , below him sit , Or hunger hopeless at the gate . Who bade the mud from Dives ' wheel Το spurn the rags of Lazarus ? Come , brother , in ...
... crowns his feast with wine and wit , - Who brought him to that mirth and state ? His betters , see , below him sit , Or hunger hopeless at the gate . Who bade the mud from Dives ' wheel Το spurn the rags of Lazarus ? Come , brother , in ...
142 psl.
... , Peeping from forth their alleys green ; Brown Exercise rejoiced to hear , And Sport leaped up and seized his beechen spear . Last came Joy's ecstatic trial : He , with viny crown advancing , First to the 142 LITTLE CLASSICS .
... , Peeping from forth their alleys green ; Brown Exercise rejoiced to hear , And Sport leaped up and seized his beechen spear . Last came Joy's ecstatic trial : He , with viny crown advancing , First to the 142 LITTLE CLASSICS .
143 psl.
Rossiter Johnson. He , with viny crown advancing , First to the lively pipe his hand addrest , But soon he saw the brisk - awakening viol , Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best ; They would have thought , who heard the strain ...
Rossiter Johnson. He , with viny crown advancing , First to the lively pipe his hand addrest , But soon he saw the brisk - awakening viol , Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best ; They would have thought , who heard the strain ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
ALFRED TENNYSON blow bonnets of bonnie bonnie Dundee boys brave breast breath bright cowslips crown Cusha dark dead dear death doth dream earth eyes fall feel fill flower Fontenoy forever Freedom's ahead galloped gang free glory glow golden hand hath head hear heard heart heaven honor JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL JEAN INGELOW JOHN MILTON kiss land let us gang life's light lips live Lochiel Locksley Hall long thoughts look Lord Lycidas morn mourn Neath nebber never night o'er open the Westport pain pale flower passion primroses rise ROBERT BUCHANAN round saddle your horses shadow shadows rise shining shore sigh silent sing smile song soul sound spring star sweet tears thee thine things thou thoughts of youth toil uppe voice wander wave weep Westport and let wheel wild WILLIAM MOTHERWELL wind wind's youth are long
Populiarios ištraukos
109 psl. - For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : Who would not sing for Lycidas ? he knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. He must not float upon his watery bier Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, Without the meed of some melodious tear.
78 psl. - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine ; Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage. But O, sad virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower ? Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what love did seek.
9 psl. - Love took up the glass of time, and turned it in his glowing hands; Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands. Love took up the harp of life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.
76 psl. - And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet, Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet, And hears the Muses in a ring Aye round about Jove's altar sing ; And add to these retired Leisure, That in trim gardens takes his pleasure...
85 psl. - In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a, weary dream.
62 psl. - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake, To perish never; Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavor, Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy!
97 psl. - How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure ; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power. And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Awaits alike th
17 psl. - Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns.
69 psl. - Hence, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy, Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings; There under ebon shades and low-browed rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
111 psl. - Ay me! I fondly dream — Had ye been there — for what could that have done, What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, The Muse herself, for her enchanting son, Whom universal nature did lament...