The Poets of America, 1 tomasJohn Keese S. Colman, 1840 - 284 psl. |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 53
26 psl.
... round in act to go . The way is long , he cannot fly , His soiled wing has lost its power , And he winds adown the mountain high , For many a sore and weary hour . Through dreary beds of tangled fern , Through groves of nightshade dark ...
... round in act to go . The way is long , he cannot fly , His soiled wing has lost its power , And he winds adown the mountain high , For many a sore and weary hour . Through dreary beds of tangled fern , Through groves of nightshade dark ...
27 psl.
... his courser toad , Then round his breast his wings he wound , And close to the river's brink he strode ; He sprang on a rock , he breathed a prayer , Above his head his arms he threw , 27 Then tossed a tiny curve in air , And headlong.
... his courser toad , Then round his breast his wings he wound , And close to the river's brink he strode ; He sprang on a rock , he breathed a prayer , Above his head his arms he threw , 27 Then tossed a tiny curve in air , And headlong.
29 psl.
... round on every side ; On his thigh the leech has fixed his hold , The quarl's long arms are round him rolled , The prickly prong has pierced his skin , And the squab has thrown his javelin , The gritty star has rubbed him raw , And the ...
... round on every side ; On his thigh the leech has fixed his hold , The quarl's long arms are round him rolled , The prickly prong has pierced his skin , And the squab has thrown his javelin , The gritty star has rubbed him raw , And the ...
38 psl.
... round him cast , He cannot see through the mantle murk , He shivers with cold , but he urges fast , Through storm and darkness , sleet and shade , He lashes his steed and spurs amain , THE CULPRIT FAY . For shadowy hands have twitched ...
... round him cast , He cannot see through the mantle murk , He shivers with cold , but he urges fast , Through storm and darkness , sleet and shade , He lashes his steed and spurs amain , THE CULPRIT FAY . For shadowy hands have twitched ...
42 psl.
... round it gleam , Are the pure drops of dewy even That ne'er have left their native heaven . XXXII . She raised her eyes to the wondering sprite , And they leaped with smiles , for well I ween Never before in the bowers of light Had the ...
... round it gleam , Are the pure drops of dewy even That ne'er have left their native heaven . XXXII . She raised her eyes to the wondering sprite , And they leaped with smiles , for well I ween Never before in the bowers of light Had the ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Alaric ALNWICK CASTLE beam beauty bending beneath bird blue bosom bough bowers breast breath breeze bright brow charm cheek cloud courser crimson CULPRIT FAY dark death deep dream earth elfin fading fair fairy float flowers forest gale gaze gems gentle glance gleam glorious glory glow golden Greece green grove hast hath hear heard heart heaven hills hour JAMESTOWN land leap light lips lonely lyre morning N. P. WILLIS night o'er old oaken bucket pale passed Pindus purple quivering rest rock rose round scene shade shine shore sigh silent moon silver sing sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit spring sprite stars storm stream summer sweet swelling sylphs tear tempests thee thine thou art thoughts throne tide tone tree Twas VISIGOTH VISIT FROM ST voice wandering water-sprites waters wave ween wild winds wing witch-hazel woods young
Populiarios ištraukos
78 psl. - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
101 psl. - Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below, When what to my wondering eyes should appear But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer, With a little old driver so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
179 psl. - Of her bright face one glance will trace A picture on the brain, And of her voice in echoing hearts A sound must long remain; But memory, such as mine of her, So very much endears, When death is nigh my latest sigh Will not be life's, but hers. I fill this cup to one made up Of loveliness alone, A woman, of her gentle sex The seeming paragon — Her health! and would on earth there stood Some more of such a frame, That life might be all poetry, And weariness a name.
48 psl. - When Freedom, from her mountain height, Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there; She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure, celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then, from his mansion in the sun, She called her eagle bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand, The symbol of her chosen land.
90 psl. - My life is like the autumn leaf That trembles in the moon's pale ray, Its hold is frail — its date is brief, Restless — and soon to pass away!
49 psl. - Flag of the free heart's hope and home, By angel hands to valor given! Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven.
110 psl. - And life, in rare and beautiful forms, Is sporting amid those bowers of stone, And is safe when the wrathful Spirit of storms Has made the top of the wave his own. And when the ship from his fury flies, Where the myriad voices of Ocean roar ; When the wind-god frowns in the murky skies, And demons are waiting the wreck on shore ; Then, far below, in the peaceful sea, The purple mullet and gold-fish rove, Where the waters murmur tranquilly, Through...
36 psl. - He put his acorn helmet on ; It was plumed of the silk of the thistle down : The corslet plate that guarded his breast Was once the wild bee's golden vest ; His cloak, of a thousand mingled dyes, Was formed of the wings of butterflies ; His shield was the shell of a lady-bug queen, Studs of gold on a ground of green ; And the quivering lance which he brandished bright, Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight.
49 psl. - Flag of the seas! on ocean wave Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave; When death, careering on the gale, Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, And frighted waves rush wildly back Before the broadside's reeling rack, Each dying wanderer of the sea...
58 psl. - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way...
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