Woodland and Wild: A Selection of Descriptive PoetrySeeley, Jackson, and Halliday, 1868 - 132 pagina's |
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Pagina 15
... rills , from leafy bowers Thou thy Creator's goodness dost declare , And what dear gifts on thee He did not spare ; A stain to human sense in sin that lowers . What soul can be so sick , which by thy songs , Attired in sweetness ...
... rills , from leafy bowers Thou thy Creator's goodness dost declare , And what dear gifts on thee He did not spare ; A stain to human sense in sin that lowers . What soul can be so sick , which by thy songs , Attired in sweetness ...
Pagina 82
... rills , and the crags , and the hills , Over the lakes and the plains , Wherever he dream , under mountain or stream , The spirit he loves remains ; And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile , Whilst he is dissolving in rains ...
... rills , and the crags , and the hills , Over the lakes and the plains , Wherever he dream , under mountain or stream , The spirit he loves remains ; And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile , Whilst he is dissolving in rains ...
Pagina 85
... the sun . Into the deep dell's still retreat , Where the river rushes beneath our feet , Skirting the base of moorland hills , By the side of rocky rills . ere Where the wild - bird bathes and plumes its wing. WOODLAND AND WILD . 85.
... the sun . Into the deep dell's still retreat , Where the river rushes beneath our feet , Skirting the base of moorland hills , By the side of rocky rills . ere Where the wild - bird bathes and plumes its wing. WOODLAND AND WILD . 85.
Pagina 115
... rill , The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore , And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more . And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died , The fair meek blossom that grew up ...
... rill , The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore , And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more . And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died , The fair meek blossom that grew up ...
Pagina 118
... among the hills , Hiding the track of the frozen rills , * Without . Lost in the gushing river . + Holding . Not alone . Endure . § Hoar - frost . ¶ Wrong . Snow , snow , beautiful snow , Lying so lightly 118 WOODLAND AND WILD .
... among the hills , Hiding the track of the frozen rills , * Without . Lost in the gushing river . + Holding . Not alone . Endure . § Hoar - frost . ¶ Wrong . Snow , snow , beautiful snow , Lying so lightly 118 WOODLAND AND WILD .
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
A. H. Clough Autumn beauty beneath birds blast blue bough bower breast breath breeze bright brook buds busy bee calm Christina Rossetti cloud crimson skies curious pastime dead deep delight doth dream earth faint fair fall feet flowers forest fresh gale gentle glad gleam glen glowworm golden grass green grove happy hath hear heard heart heaven hills Isa Craig lazy Kate leaf leaves light LIME BLOSSOMS lonely loud March month moon morning mountain murmuring nest night nook o'er ocean pale pinx rain rills rise river Rosa Bonheur rose round S. T. Coleridge shade shine side silent sing skies sleep smile snow soft song spring stars stream summer sweet swelling thee ther things thou art thou busy thought thunder tree vale voice vrom wake waves wild wind wings winter woods Wordsworth yarms yellow
Populaire passages
Pagina 25 - Like a high-born maiden In a palace tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower: Like a glowworm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view...
Pagina 93 - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Pagina 93 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue...
Pagina 26 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain ? What fields, or waves, or mountains ? What shapes of sky or plain ? What love of thine own kind ? what ignorance of pain ? With thy clear, keen joyance Languor cannot be : Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee : Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Pagina 114 - The melancholy days are come, The saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, And meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, The autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, And to the rabbit's tread. The robin and the wren are flown, And from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow, Through all the gloomy day.
Pagina 24 - HAIL to thee, blithe spirit ! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire...
Pagina 37 - Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still The pensive Pleasures sweet, Prepare thy shadowy car. Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene; Or find some ruin midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams.
Pagina 17 - 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 fills, And dances with the daffodils.
Pagina 30 - Here are sweet peas, on tip-toe for a flight : With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white, And taper fingers catching at all things, To bind them all about with tiny rings.
Pagina 13 - To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again.