The Rhyme and Reason of Country Life, Or, Selections from Fields Old and NewG.P. Putnam, 1855 - 428 psl. |
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65 psl.
... thy wholesome air Is gone ; nor gold , nor gems , can her restore . Neglected virtues , seasons go and come , When thine forgot lie closed in a tomb . What doth it serve to see the sun's bright face SPRING . 65 On Spring.
... thy wholesome air Is gone ; nor gold , nor gems , can her restore . Neglected virtues , seasons go and come , When thine forgot lie closed in a tomb . What doth it serve to see the sun's bright face SPRING . 65 On Spring.
66 psl.
... doth it serve earth's beauty to behold , The mountain's pride , the meadow's flow'ry grace , The stately comeliness of forests old , The sport of floods which would themselves embrace ? What doth it serve to hear the sylvans ' songs ...
... doth it serve earth's beauty to behold , The mountain's pride , the meadow's flow'ry grace , The stately comeliness of forests old , The sport of floods which would themselves embrace ? What doth it serve to hear the sylvans ' songs ...
69 psl.
... doth repair Winter's ruins ; from whose breast All the gums and spice of th ' East Borrow their perfumes ; whose eye Gilds the morn , and clears the sky ; Whose disheveled tresses shed Pearls upon the violet bed ; On whose brow , with ...
... doth repair Winter's ruins ; from whose breast All the gums and spice of th ' East Borrow their perfumes ; whose eye Gilds the morn , and clears the sky ; Whose disheveled tresses shed Pearls upon the violet bed ; On whose brow , with ...
72 psl.
... doth my flower Want a spring - shower , My sins and I joining together . But while I grow in a straight line , Still upward bent , as if heav'n were mine own , Thy anger comes , and I decline : What frost to that ? What pole is not the ...
... doth my flower Want a spring - shower , My sins and I joining together . But while I grow in a straight line , Still upward bent , as if heav'n were mine own , Thy anger comes , and I decline : What frost to that ? What pole is not the ...
106 psl.
... doth surpass , Teach no sprite or bird What sweet thoughts are thine : I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine . Chorus hymeneal , Or triumphant chant , Matched with thine would be all ...
... doth surpass , Teach no sprite or bird What sweet thoughts are thine : I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine . Chorus hymeneal , Or triumphant chant , Matched with thine would be all ...
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Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The Rhyme and Reason of Country Life, Or, Selections from Fields Old and New Susan Fenimore Cooper Visos knygos peržiūra - 1854 |
The Rhyme and Reason of Country Life, Or, Selections from Fields Old and New Susan Fenimore Cooper Visos knygos peržiūra - 1855 |
The Rhyme and Reason of Country Life, Or, Selections from Fields Old and New Susan Fenimore Cooper Visos knygos peržiūra - 1855 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
ABRAHAM COWLEY ALFRED TENNYSON amid autumn beams beauty BEN JONSON beneath birds bloom blue boughs bowers breast breath bright buds charms clouds cuckoo dance dark delight doth Duke of Orleans earth fair fairy field flocks flowers forest fresh garden gentle GILES FLETCHER golden grass green Grongar Hill grove happy hast hath hear heart heaven hill hour hues JOHN CLARE JOHN KEBLE Katydid leaf leaves light live look meadows merry morning mountain murmuring Nature never night nightingale o'er plain pleasure poet purple rich rill ROBERT HERRICK rock rose round SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE shade shines shower silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spide spring storm stream summer sweet thee thine things thou art Translation tree unto vale voice wandering wave wild WILLIAM GILPIN WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind wings winter wood youth
Populiarios ištraukos
408 psl. - The sky is changed! - and such a change! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
98 psl. - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
144 psl. - Go, lovely Rose! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. 226 Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired.
61 psl. - Where some, like magistrates correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in. their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor...
158 psl. - They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed and gazed but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure...
211 psl. - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath. And stars to set but all Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death ! THE LOST PLEIAD.
84 psl. - And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? GOD! let the torrents, like a shout of nations. Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, GOD!
248 psl. - O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme! Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull, Strong without rage, without o'er-flowing full.
98 psl. - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
406 psl. - Clear, placid Leman! thy contrasted lake, With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction; once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.