Poetry for repetition, ed. by H. TwellsHenry Twells 1864 |
Knygos viduje
Rezultatai 15 iš 32
17 psl.
... praise the Duke of Marlborough won , แ And our good prince Eugene . " ' Why , ' twas a very wicked thing ! " Said little Wilhelmine . " Nay - Nay - my little girl , " quoth he , " It was a famous victory ! " And every body praised the ...
... praise the Duke of Marlborough won , แ And our good prince Eugene . " ' Why , ' twas a very wicked thing ! " Said little Wilhelmine . " Nay - Nay - my little girl , " quoth he , " It was a famous victory ! " And every body praised the ...
30 psl.
... Nor bound by time , nor subject to decay , In happy triumph shall for ever live , And endless good diffuse , and endless praise receive . As through the artist's intervening glass eye observes the distant 30 POETRY FOR REPETITION .
... Nor bound by time , nor subject to decay , In happy triumph shall for ever live , And endless good diffuse , and endless praise receive . As through the artist's intervening glass eye observes the distant 30 POETRY FOR REPETITION .
55 psl.
... praise . O , how shall words , with equal warmth , The gratitude declare That glows within my ravish'd heart ! But Thou canst read it there . Thy providence my life sustain'd , And all my wants redrest , When in the silent womb I lay ...
... praise . O , how shall words , with equal warmth , The gratitude declare That glows within my ravish'd heart ! But Thou canst read it there . Thy providence my life sustain'd , And all my wants redrest , When in the silent womb I lay ...
57 psl.
... praise ! ADDISON . 38. THE THREE SONS . HAVE a son , a little son , a boy just five years old , I eyes gentle mould ; They tell me that unusual grace in all his ways appears , That my child is grave and wise of head , beyond his ...
... praise ! ADDISON . 38. THE THREE SONS . HAVE a son , a little son , a boy just five years old , I eyes gentle mould ; They tell me that unusual grace in all his ways appears , That my child is grave and wise of head , beyond his ...
63 psl.
... praise has fill'd the town ; And mourners , God had stricken deep , Look'd hearkening up , and did not weep ! Alone she wept , Who wept to wear a crown . She saw no purple shine , For tears had dimm'd her eyes : She only knew her ...
... praise has fill'd the town ; And mourners , God had stricken deep , Look'd hearkening up , and did not weep ! Alone she wept , Who wept to wear a crown . She saw no purple shine , For tears had dimm'd her eyes : She only knew her ...
Turinys
157 | |
158 | |
165 | |
166 | |
172 | |
174 | |
180 | |
182 | |
41 | |
44 | |
52 | |
59 | |
65 | |
72 | |
78 | |
81 | |
84 | |
87 | |
90 | |
96 | |
102 | |
112 | |
118 | |
120 | |
126 | |
138 | |
143 | |
144 | |
146 | |
151 | |
155 | |
186 | |
194 | |
200 | |
213 | |
214 | |
219 | |
226 | |
228 | |
232 | |
236 | |
238 | |
240 | |
241 | |
244 | |
251 | |
258 | |
261 | |
264 | |
270 | |
276 | |
282 | |
287 | |
288 | |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
beauty beneath bird bless blood blow breast breath bright cheerful child comes dark dead dear death deep dream earth eyes face fair fall father fear feel field fire flowers give gone grave green grow hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill honourable hope hour king knew laid land leaves light live look Lord meet mind morn mother never night o'er once peace plain poor praise prayer pride rest rise rose round shade shine sight sleep smile song soon soul sound speak spirit stand stars stood storm sweet tears tell thee thine things thou Thou art thought Till tree Twas village voice waters waves weep wild winds young youth
Populiarios ištraukos
236 psl. - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.
96 psl. - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
224 psl. - These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty ! Thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair: Thyself how wondrous then ! Unspeakable! who sitt'st above these heavens, To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works ; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
173 psl. - And prithee, lead me in : There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny ; 'tis the king's : my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call mine own.
157 psl. - I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
160 psl. - Westmoreland, through my host, That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart ; his passport shall be made And crowns for convoy put into his purse : We would not die in that man's company That fears his fellowship to die with us.
240 psl. - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love. A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
173 psl. - THOU art, O God ! the life and light Of all this wondrous world we see ; Its glow by day, its smile by night, Are but reflections caught from thee. .Where'er we turn thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are thine.
65 psl. - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree...
35 psl. - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn ; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! I remember, I remember...