Select specimens of English poetryLongman, Brown, Green, & Longmans, 1856 |
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ix psl.
... round the World Lockhart 41. The Warden of the Cinque Ports Longfellow 31 42. The Fall of Wolsey Shakspheare 43. He Never Smiled Again . 23. The Dying Gladiator · 1. The Homes of England 79 Mrs. Hemans Cowper 80 82 Mrs. Hemans 2. Love ...
... round the World Lockhart 41. The Warden of the Cinque Ports Longfellow 31 42. The Fall of Wolsey Shakspheare 43. He Never Smiled Again . 23. The Dying Gladiator · 1. The Homes of England 79 Mrs. Hemans Cowper 80 82 Mrs. Hemans 2. Love ...
3 psl.
... round her . She appeared among the assembled multitude exciting them to do battle . But the Romans , under their leader , Suetonius , were victorious over the combined host of barbarians , whom they cruelly slaughtered . The wretched ...
... round her . She appeared among the assembled multitude exciting them to do battle . But the Romans , under their leader , Suetonius , were victorious over the combined host of barbarians , whom they cruelly slaughtered . The wretched ...
11 psl.
Edward Hughes. INSCRIPTION FOR A COLUMN AT RUNNEMEDE . 11 Gather ye round the holy hearth , And by its gladdening blaze , Unto thankful bliss we will change our mirth , With a thought of the olden days ! HEMANS . VII . INSCRIPTION FOR A ...
Edward Hughes. INSCRIPTION FOR A COLUMN AT RUNNEMEDE . 11 Gather ye round the holy hearth , And by its gladdening blaze , Unto thankful bliss we will change our mirth , With a thought of the olden days ! HEMANS . VII . INSCRIPTION FOR A ...
12 psl.
... round , Which he beside the rivulet , In playing there , had found : He came to ask what he had found , That was so large , and smooth , and round . Old Kaspar took it from the boy , Who stood expectant by ; And then the old man shook ...
... round , Which he beside the rivulet , In playing there , had found : He came to ask what he had found , That was so large , and smooth , and round . Old Kaspar took it from the boy , Who stood expectant by ; And then the old man shook ...
13 psl.
... round Was wasted far and wide ; And many a childing mother then And new - born baby died . But things like that , you know , must be At every famous victory . " They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won ; For many ...
... round Was wasted far and wide ; And many a childing mother then And new - born baby died . But things like that , you know , must be At every famous victory . " They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won ; For many ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Arouse thee BARRY CORNWALL battle BATTLE OF KILLIECRANKIE beauty beneath BERNARD BARTON birds bless blow brave breast breath bright cheer Cleon clouds dark dead death deep delight Derivations doth dread dream earth ELIZA COOK ellipsis England English Poetry Etymology father fear feel flowers geography give glorious glory glow grave green Greenwich Hospital hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour human HUMPHREY GILBERT John Herschel king labour land light live look Lord mighty mind morning mountains nature never night noble o'er ocean Patrick Spence peace pleasure Pompey prayer rocks round RUNNEMEDE sail Samian wine shine ship shore sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star storm sweet Syntax tear tempest thine things thought toil Twas voice waves wild wind wings words youth
Populiarios ištraukos
49 psl. - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed. The mustering squadron, and the clattering car. Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war...
194 psl. - And sweep through the deep While the stormy winds do blow, While the battle rages loud and long And the stormy winds do blow ! The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave : For the deck it was their field of fame, And ocean was their grave. Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep While the stormy winds do blow, While the battle rages loud and long And the stormy winds do blow.
39 psl. - And his droop'd head sinks gradually low And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won. He heard it, but he heeded not his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away...
281 psl. - We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
274 psl. - Man that is born of a woman Is of few days, and full of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down : He fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not.
337 psl. - For a thousand years in thy sight Are but as yesterday when it is past, And as a watch in the night. Thou carriest them away as with a flood ; they are as a sleep : In the morning they are like grass which groweth up. In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up ; In the evening it is cut down, and withereth.
352 psl. - And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow : and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou not that we perish ? 39 And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.
75 psl. - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
124 psl. - It sounds to him like her mother's voice Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes.
117 psl. - How sleep the brave who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! ODE TO MERCY.