Poetry for Home and School ...S.G. Simpkins, 1846 |
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... loudly it blows , It calls but the warders that guard thy repose ; Their bows would be bended , their blades would be red , Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed . O , hush thee , my baby , the time will soon come When thy ...
... loudly it blows , It calls but the warders that guard thy repose ; Their bows would be bended , their blades would be red , Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed . O , hush thee , my baby , the time will soon come When thy ...
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... loud cries , Which its hard - working mother afar off will hear ; She comes at its calling , she quiets its squalling , And feeds it , and leaves it again without fear . When you were as young as this field - nursed daughter , You were ...
... loud cries , Which its hard - working mother afar off will hear ; She comes at its calling , she quiets its squalling , And feeds it , and leaves it again without fear . When you were as young as this field - nursed daughter , You were ...
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We met a young , barefooted child , And she begged loud and bold ; I asked her what she did abroad When the wind it blew so cold . She said her father was at home , And he lay sick abed ; And therefore was it she was sent Abroad to beg ...
We met a young , barefooted child , And she begged loud and bold ; I asked her what she did abroad When the wind it blew so cold . She said her father was at home , And he lay sick abed ; And therefore was it she was sent Abroad to beg ...
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... loud wind roared , the rain fell fast , The white man yielded to the blast ; He sat him down beneath the tree , For weary , faint , and sad was he ; And , ah ! no wife , or mother's care , For him the milk or corn prepare . CHORUS . The ...
... loud wind roared , the rain fell fast , The white man yielded to the blast ; He sat him down beneath the tree , For weary , faint , and sad was he ; And , ah ! no wife , or mother's care , For him the milk or corn prepare . CHORUS . The ...
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... Loudly shouts , with taunting cry , " Yield thee , yield thee , Don Saavedra ! Dost thou from the battle fly ? " Well I know thee , haughty Christian , Long I lived beneath thy roof ; Oft I've in the lists of glory Seen thee win the ...
... Loudly shouts , with taunting cry , " Yield thee , yield thee , Don Saavedra ! Dost thou from the battle fly ? " Well I know thee , haughty Christian , Long I lived beneath thy roof ; Oft I've in the lists of glory Seen thee win the ...
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多く使われている語句
beauty beneath bird Birdie blessed bloom breast breath bright brow canst cheer child coursers Crocodile customed hill dark dear death delight dost doth E'en earth fair fairy father fear flowers fly away home glory gone grass grave green grief hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hill Inchcape Inchcape rock John Barleycorn King lady lady-bird land light live look Lord loud Mary Howitt maun merry mind mother mountain mourn ne'er never night numbers o'er Old English Poetry Patrick Spence poor praise Queen renegado rock rose round sail Samian wine shining shining book shore silent sing singing bee sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spring stars storm stream sweet tears tempests thee thine thing thou art thou hast thought top-mast tree voice wakeful eye wandering waves weep wild wind wings
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70 ページ - The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose, The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare, Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair ; The sunshine is a glorious birth ; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
111 ページ - Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go On the light fantastic toe, And in thy right hand lead with thee The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty ; And if I give thee honour due, Mirth, admit me of thy crew To live with her, and live with thee In unreproved pleasures free...
64 ページ - Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? — God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God!
128 ページ - The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learned to stray; Along the cool sequestered vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
156 ページ - SHE was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
75 ページ - And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves, Forebode not any severing of our loves ! Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might ; I only have relinquished one delight To live beneath your more habitual sway.
162 ページ - Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said — 'And they answered not our cheer ! The planks look warped ! and see those sails, How thin they are and sere! I never saw aught like to them, Unless perchance it were Brown skeletons of leaves that lag My forest-brook along; When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, And the owlet whoops to the wolf below That eats the she-wolf's young.
134 ページ - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
76 ページ - God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
102 ページ - I'll row you o'er the ferry.' By this the storm grew loud apace, The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men, Their trampling sounded nearer. ' O haste thee, haste ! ' the lady cries, 'Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.