Beauties of English LandscapeGeorge Routledge and Sons, 1874 - Počet stran: 301 |
Vyhledávání v knize
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Strana ix
... night 23 25 The lightnings flash a larger curve , and more The noise astounds 27 Down the path Which from his cottage to the Church - yard led , He took his way 28 CONTENTS AND ILLUSTRATIONS . Towards the Church - yard he ix.
... night 23 25 The lightnings flash a larger curve , and more The noise astounds 27 Down the path Which from his cottage to the Church - yard led , He took his way 28 CONTENTS AND ILLUSTRATIONS . Towards the Church - yard he ix.
Strana x
... night When there was none to watch us Alas ! how changed from the fair scene , When birds sang out their mellow lay I could not pray : -through tears that fell in showers I saw my own dear home , that was no longer ours Those fraternal ...
... night When there was none to watch us Alas ! how changed from the fair scene , When birds sang out their mellow lay I could not pray : -through tears that fell in showers I saw my own dear home , that was no longer ours Those fraternal ...
Strana xvi
... hills 297 A stag sprang from the pasture at his call 298 What majesty attends Night's lovely queen ! Nestles each murderous and each monstrous brood 299 300 He sleeps in dust 301 A HOLY - DAY -- the frugal banquet spread On xvi.
... hills 297 A stag sprang from the pasture at his call 298 What majesty attends Night's lovely queen ! Nestles each murderous and each monstrous brood 299 300 He sleeps in dust 301 A HOLY - DAY -- the frugal banquet spread On xvi.
Strana 24
... night ; ' Mid groves of clouds that crest the mountain's brow , And round the west's proud lodge their shadows throw , Like Una shining on her gloomy way , The half - seen form of Twilight roams astray ; Shedding , through paly ...
... night ; ' Mid groves of clouds that crest the mountain's brow , And round the west's proud lodge their shadows throw , Like Una shining on her gloomy way , The half - seen form of Twilight roams astray ; Shedding , through paly ...
Strana 34
... night , a chest of drawers by day ; The pictures placed for ornament and use , The twelve good rules , the royal game of goose ; The hearth , except when winter chill'd the day , With aspen boughs , and flowers , and fennel gay ; While ...
... night , a chest of drawers by day ; The pictures placed for ornament and use , The twelve good rules , the royal game of goose ; The hearth , except when winter chill'd the day , With aspen boughs , and flowers , and fennel gay ; While ...
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Další vydání - Zobrazit všechny
Beauties of English Landscape (Classic Reprint) Myles Birket Foster Náhled není k dispozici. - 2015 |
Běžně se vyskytující výrazy a sousloví
beam beauty behold beneath birds blessed bloom bosom boughs bower breathe bride bright BROTHERS calm Canst thou forget cliffs clouds Cold fear Coloured cottage Cushlo-mo-chree DALZIEL BROTHERS dark dear deep delight doth dream earth EDMUND EVANS ELIZA COOK fair fear flowers gentle gleam glide Grasmere grave green greenwood tree grove hand happy hath heard heart heaven HENRY KIRKE WHITE hill hour JOHN FRANCIS WALLER lassie leaf light live lonely look luve Maire bhan Astor merry morning mossy MOTHERWELL mountain murmur night o'er pleasure rills rocks round rove scene shade shepherd shines shore side sight silence sing sleep smile snow soft solitude song sorrow soul spread Spring stood stream summer tears thee thine thou art thoughts trees vale village voice wandering waters waves wild winds winter woods WORDSWORTH Yarrow youth
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 14 - LINES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING. I HEARD a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran ; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man.
Strana 50 - This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.
Strana 236 - Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise ; But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings ; Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realised, High instincts before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised...
Strana 200 - I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely ; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy ; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea.
Strana 56 - 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...
Strana 56 - Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun ; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run ; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core...
Strana 30 - Imagination fondly stoops to trace The parlour splendours of that festive place: The white-washed wall, the nicely sanded floor, The varnished clock that clicked behind the door; The chest contrived a double debt to pay, A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day...
Strana 232 - My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard, Thus fares it still in our decay; And yet the wiser mind Mourns less for what Age takes away Than what it leaves behind.
Strana 222 - Reaper Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Strana 122 - NUNS fret not at their Convent's narrow room ; And Hermits are contented with their Cells ; And Students with their pensive Citadels : Maids at the Wheel, the Weaver at his Loom, Sit blithe and happy; Bees that soar for bloom, High as the highest Pea.k of Furness Fells, Will murmur by the hour in Foxglove bells : In truth, the prison, unto which we doom Ourselves, no prison is...