Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Allan-a-Dale Angantyr Anne Hathaway bells BEN JONSON beneath bowers brave breast breath bright brow burning charms Christmas cloud cried dark dead dear deep doth Douglas dream earth eyes face fame fear fight FITZ-GREENE HALLECK Fitz-James flowers gazed glory glow gold grace grave green Guibour hall hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven HENRY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW JOHN JŲtunheim King kiss lady land Lars Porsena light lips living look Lord Lord Lovel lord of Ross Marmion merry ne'er never night o'er poet poetry praise pride roar ROBERT BROWNING Rome rose round Shakespeare shine ship shore sing Sir Bedivere SIR WALTER SCOTT smile song soul sound stood sweet sword tears tell thee thine THOMAS thou thought Thrym tide Tinkler toil tower voice wall WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR wave wild WILLIAM wind wonder
Pagina xl - O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
Pagina 96 - Hear the loud alarum bells — Brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells; In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire.
Pagina 169 - Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please, How often have I loitered o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene...
Pagina 95 - HEAR the sledges with the bells — Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night ! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Pagina 173 - No more the woodman's ballad shall prevail; No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear, Relax his ponderous strength, and lean to hear...
Pagina 81 - The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon ; With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; His youthful hose well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big, manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound.
Pagina 47 - Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise.
Pagina 89 - A heavenly image in the glass appears, To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears; Th' inferior priestess, at her altar's side, Trembling, begins the sacred rites of pride.
Pagina 2 - Soul of the age! The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room: Thou art a monument without a tomb, And art alive still while thy book doth live And we have wits to read and praise to give.