The Poets of the Nineteenth CenturyRobert Aris Willmott George Routledge & Company, 1857 - 397 pages |
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Page 305
... BOSCH ( without ) . What ho ! Van Artevelde ! ARTEVELDE . Who calls ? ' Tis I. VAN DEN BOSCH ( entering ) . Thou art an early riser , like myself ; Or is it that thou hast not been to bed ? ARTEVELDE . What are thy tidings ? VAN DEN ...
... BOSCH ( without ) . What ho ! Van Artevelde ! ARTEVELDE . Who calls ? ' Tis I. VAN DEN BOSCH ( entering ) . Thou art an early riser , like myself ; Or is it that thou hast not been to bed ? ARTEVELDE . What are thy tidings ? VAN DEN ...
Page 306
... BOSCH . Why , then , be certain ' tis a flag of truce ! If once he reach the city we are lost . Nay , if he be but ... BOSCH . Send him to hell - and that's a better place . ARTEVELDE . Nay , softly , Van den Bosch ; let war be war , But ...
... BOSCH . Why , then , be certain ' tis a flag of truce ! If once he reach the city we are lost . Nay , if he be but ... BOSCH . Send him to hell - and that's a better place . ARTEVELDE . Nay , softly , Van den Bosch ; let war be war , But ...
Page 307
Robert Aris Willmott. VAN DEN BOSCH . Then thou art mad , [ Is going . And I must take this matter on myself . ARTEVELDE . Hold , Van den Bosch ; I say this shall not be . I must be madder than I think I am Ere. 307.
Robert Aris Willmott. VAN DEN BOSCH . Then thou art mad , [ Is going . And I must take this matter on myself . ARTEVELDE . Hold , Van den Bosch ; I say this shall not be . I must be madder than I think I am Ere. 307.
Page 308
... BOSCH . ARTEVELDE . I will . VAN DEN BOSCH . Oh , Lord to hear him speak , What a most mighty emperor of puppets Is this that I have brought upon the board ! But how if he that made it should unmake ? ARTEVELDE . Unto His sovereignty ...
... BOSCH . ARTEVELDE . I will . VAN DEN BOSCH . Oh , Lord to hear him speak , What a most mighty emperor of puppets Is this that I have brought upon the board ! But how if he that made it should unmake ? ARTEVELDE . Unto His sovereignty ...
Page 309
... Bosch ; Part of the curious clock - work of this world , We scold , and squeak , and crack each other's crowns ; And if by twitches moved from wires we see not , I were to toss thee from this steeple's top , I should be but the ...
... Bosch ; Part of the curious clock - work of this world , We scold , and squeak , and crack each other's crowns ; And if by twitches moved from wires we see not , I were to toss thee from this steeple's top , I should be but the ...
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Expressions et termes fréquents
art thou ARTEVELDE beam beauty beneath bird blessed BOSCH bosom breast breath breeze bright brow Bruges cheek cloud coursers dark dead dear deep delight dread dream earth EPICURUS face fair father fear flowers gaze gentle gleam glory grave green grey hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill hope hour James Godwin JOANNA BAILLIE Kilmeny Lautaro LEWESDON HILL light Lochiel lonely look look'd lov'd MARY RUSSELL MITFORD MARY TIGHE Medes morning mother murmurs night o'er Orra pride Queen rocks rose round SACK OF BALTIMORE scene seem'd shade shadow shining shore sigh sight silent sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stept stood storm stream sudden fear summer sweet tears thee thine thou thought trees trembling Twas vale voice wave weep wild wind wings youth
Fréquemment cités
Page 137 - 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, Cluster'd 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.
Page 162 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease, , Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou...
Page 132 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could lie down like a tired child And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear...
Page 180 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below — As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormv winds do blow.
Page 179 - 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...
Page 136 - Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sun-burnt mirth ! O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth ; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...
Page 118 - The last, the sole, the dearest link Between me and the eternal brink, Which bound me to my failing race, Was broken in this fatal place.
Page 204 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him.
Page 115 - A double dungeon wall and wave Have made — and like a living grave Below the surface of the lake The dark vault lies wherein we lay...
Page 172 - Lo !. the death-shot of foemen outspeeding, he rode Companionless, bearing destruction abroad ; But down let him stoop from his havoc on high ! Ah ! home let him speed — for the spoiler is nigh. Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast, Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast ? 'Tis the fire-shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven From his eyrie, that beacons the darkness of heaven. Oh, crested Lochiel ! the peerless in might, Whose banners arise on the battlements...