The Select Poetical WorksPhillips & Sampson, 1848 - 406 pagina's |
Vanuit het boek
Resultaten 1-5 van 51
Pagina 27
... dead , I ne'er shall find a son like him . " " Bravely , old man , this health has sped ; But why does Allan trembling stand ? Come , drink remembrance of the dead , And raise thy cup with firmer hand . " The crimson glow of Allan's ...
... dead , I ne'er shall find a son like him . " " Bravely , old man , this health has sped ; But why does Allan trembling stand ? Come , drink remembrance of the dead , And raise thy cup with firmer hand . " The crimson glow of Allan's ...
Pagina 30
... dead ? It glimmers through the twilight gloom ; Oh ! that is Allan's nuptial bed . Far , distant far , the noble grave Which held his clan's great ashes stood ; And o'er his corse no banners wave , For they were stained with kindred ...
... dead ? It glimmers through the twilight gloom ; Oh ! that is Allan's nuptial bed . Far , distant far , the noble grave Which held his clan's great ashes stood ; And o'er his corse no banners wave , For they were stained with kindred ...
Pagina 32
... dead , Except the dull , cold stone that hides thy head , The mouldering ' scutcheon , or the herald's roll , That well - emblazoned but neglected scroll , Where lords , unhonored , in the tomb may find One spot , to leave a worthless ...
... dead , Except the dull , cold stone that hides thy head , The mouldering ' scutcheon , or the herald's roll , That well - emblazoned but neglected scroll , Where lords , unhonored , in the tomb may find One spot , to leave a worthless ...
Pagina 41
... dead , When life again to dust is given , On thy dear breast I'll lay my head- Without thee , where would be my heaven ? EPITAPH ON A FRIEND . Он , Friend ! for ever loved , for ever dear , What fruitless tears have bathed thy honored ...
... dead , When life again to dust is given , On thy dear breast I'll lay my head- Without thee , where would be my heaven ? EPITAPH ON A FRIEND . Он , Friend ! for ever loved , for ever dear , What fruitless tears have bathed thy honored ...
Pagina 53
... dead , perverting truth , What though our " nation's foes " lament the fate , With generous feeling , of the good and great , Shall dastard tongues essay to blast the name Of him whose meed exists in endless fame ? When PITT expired in ...
... dead , perverting truth , What though our " nation's foes " lament the fate , With generous feeling , of the good and great , Shall dastard tongues essay to blast the name Of him whose meed exists in endless fame ? When PITT expired in ...
Inhoudsopgave
19 | |
31 | |
38 | |
45 | |
51 | |
57 | |
59 | |
66 | |
72 | |
78 | |
84 | |
102 | |
111 | |
117 | |
128 | |
142 | |
151 | |
157 | |
165 | |
203 | |
210 | |
216 | |
278 | |
286 | |
292 | |
298 | |
305 | |
312 | |
318 | |
351 | |
383 | |
389 | |
396 | |
402 | |
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
art thou bard beam beauty behold beneath bless blest blood bosom breast breath brow Calmar canst CATULLUS charms cheek chief cold dare dark dead dear death deep dread dream dwell e'en earth expire fair fairy bowers falchion fame fate fear feel flow fond forget friendship gaze glory glow grave Greece grief hate hath heart heaven hope hour immortal kiss Latian live Lochlin Lord Byron lyre Mathon mind mingle Morven mourn muse NAPOLEON BONAPARTE ne'er never NEWFOUNDLAND DOG NEWSTEAD ABBEY night numbers o'er once Orla Oscar pangs perchance praise pride Probus remembrance rise roll Samian wine scene seek shade shine shore sigh sleep slumber smile soar soft song soothe sorrow soul spirit strain sweet tears thee thine thou art thou hast thou wert thought throng trembling truth voice wandering wave weep wild wings youth
Populaire passages
Pagina 318 - Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave. A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis ; And ships, by thousands, lay below, And men in nations — all were his ! He counted them at break of day — And when the sun set, where were they?
Pagina 214 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold ; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Pagina 319 - Must we but weep o'er days more blest ? Must we but blush ?— Our fathers bled. Earth ! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead ! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylae...
Pagina 192 - Twas thine own genius gave the final blow, And helped to plant the wound that laid thee low. So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain, No more through rolling clouds to soar again, Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart, And winged the shaft that quivered in his heart. Keen were his pangs, but keener far to feel, He nursed the pinion which impelled the steel „ While the same plumage that had warmed his nest, Drank the last life-drop of his bleeding breast.
Pagina 320 - Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! On Suli's rock and Parga's shore Exists the remnant of a line Such as the Doric mothers bore ; And there, perhaps, some seed is sown The Heracleidan blood might own.
Pagina 265 - Adieu, adieu ! my native shore Fades o'er the waters blue ; The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar, And shrieks the wild sea-mew. Yon sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight: Farewell awhile to him and thee, My native Land— Good Night!
Pagina 332 - O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, Survey our empire, and behold our home!
Pagina 240 - Had wander'd from its dwelling, and her eyes They had not their own lustre, but the look Which is not of the earth; she was become The queen of a fantastic realm; her thoughts Were combinations of disjointed things; And forms impalpable and unperceived Of others
Pagina 320 - Trust not for freedom to the Franks — They have a king who buys and sells: In native swords, and native ranks, The only hope of courage dwells ; But Turkish force and Latin fraud Would break your shield, however broad.
Pagina 214 - And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail...