The young Englishman's first poetry book, compiled by E.C. Lowe |
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Page 7
Edward Clarke Lowe. breach , r's voice , e more , he wipes egun , g done , thy friend , ht ! ped hit ! Longfellow . GHTER . bound Eight times emerging from the flood She mew'd to every.
Edward Clarke Lowe. breach , r's voice , e more , he wipes egun , g done , thy friend , ht ! ped hit ! Longfellow . GHTER . bound Eight times emerging from the flood She mew'd to every.
Page 9
... - LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER . A CHIEFTAIN to the Highlands bound 66 Cries , Boatman , do not tarry ! And I'll give thee a silver pound " To row us o'er the ferry . " " Now who be ye , would cross Lochgyle , 9 Highland Mary.
... - LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER . A CHIEFTAIN to the Highlands bound 66 Cries , Boatman , do not tarry ! And I'll give thee a silver pound " To row us o'er the ferry . " " Now who be ye , would cross Lochgyle , 9 Highland Mary.
Page 25
... bound , " Her owners can afford her ! " I say , how's my John ? " 66 Every man on board went down , " Every man aboard her . ” " How's my boy — my boy ? " What care I for the men , sailor ? " I'm not their mother- " How's my boy - my ...
... bound , " Her owners can afford her ! " I say , how's my John ? " 66 Every man on board went down , " Every man aboard her . ” " How's my boy — my boy ? " What care I for the men , sailor ? " I'm not their mother- " How's my boy - my ...
Page 26
... bound with clay together . Now ' tis nought But restless hurry through the busy air , Beat by unnumbered wings . The swallow sweeps The slimy pool , to build his hanging house , Intent . And often , from the careless back Of herds and ...
... bound with clay together . Now ' tis nought But restless hurry through the busy air , Beat by unnumbered wings . The swallow sweeps The slimy pool , to build his hanging house , Intent . And often , from the careless back Of herds and ...
Page 76
... bound , To skip and gambol like a fawn , And swing his rump around . His frisking was at evening hours , For then he lost his fear , But most before approaching showers , Or when a storm drew near . Eight years and five round - rolling ...
... bound , To skip and gambol like a fawn , And swing his rump around . His frisking was at evening hours , For then he lost his fear , But most before approaching showers , Or when a storm drew near . Eight years and five round - rolling ...
Autres éditions - Tout afficher
The Young Englishman's First Poetry Book, Compiled by E. C. Lowe Edward Clarke LOWE Affichage du livre entier - 1868 |
The Young Englishman's First Poetry Book, Compiled by E.C. Lowe Edward Clarke Lowe Aucun aperçu disponible - 2016 |
Expressions et termes fréquents
66 Straight a'that BATTLE OF HOHENLINDEN beneath bird brave bright captain cheer Cheviot child churchyard cried Crooked Lane dark dead dear death Dora double dungeon doughty Douglas dread dungeon fair faithful father flew foreign bands gallant Gelert gentle Gilpin gone grave green grew grey plover hand hath hear heard heart heaven John Anderson John Barleycorn king knew land light look look'd Lord Percy merry mighty moonlight play morn mother ne'er Netherby never night Northumberland o'er poor dog Tray pride queen's old courtier quoth raven river Dee rode round the Square Sally Brown Scotland seem'd side sigh sight sing slain smile song sorrow soul storm sweet sword tear tell thee There's things thou thought thousand tree Trelawny Twas voice wave weep WHITE SQUALL wild wind wings word Wordsworth Wykeham's young Lochinvar
Fréquemment cités
Page 55 - 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 stormy winds do blow.
Page 120 - ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat, at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Page 130 - Like leviathans afloat Lay their bulwarks on the brine, While the sign of battle flew On the lofty British line ; It was ten of April morn by the chime. As they drifted on their path There was silence deep as death, And the boldest held his breath For a time. But the might of England flushed To anticipate the scene; And her van the fleeter rushed O'er the deadly space between. "Hearts of oak...
Page 11 - Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of death Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns!
Page 150 - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee! "O for a soft and gentle wind!
Page 51 - Stop thief! stop thief! — a highwayman! Not one of them was mute; And all and each that passed that way Did join in the pursuit. And now the turnpike gates again Flew open in short space; The toll-men thinking as before That Gilpin rode a race.
Page 162 - Content I live, this is my stay; I seek no more than may suffice; I press to bear no haughty sway; Look, what I lack my mind supplies. Lo, thus I triumph like a king, Content with that my mind doth bring.
Page 96 - The bride had consented, the gallant came late ; For a laggard in love and a dastard in war Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
Page 114 - But in it there were three tall trees, And o'er it blew the mountain breeze, And by it there were waters flowing, And on it there were young flowers growing Of gentle breath and hue.
Page 50 - And thus unto the youth she said, That drove them to the Bell, " This shall be yours, when you bring back My husband safe and well." The youth did ride, and soon did meet John coming back amain — Whom in a trice he tried to stop, By catching at his rein; But not performing what he meant, And gladly would have done, The frighted steed he frighted more, And made him faster run. Away went Gilpin, and away Went post-boy at his heels, The post-boy's horse right glad to miss The lumb'ring of the wheels.