The poetical reader, with notes and questions by A.W. BuchanAlexander Winton Buchan 1859 |
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... Night Song , Lines to a Swallow , Lessons to be derived from Birds , To a Waterfowl , - A Psalm of Life , - Bernardo and Alphonso , The Lady and Adopted Child , The Death of Keeldar , The Widow of Nain , Lines suggested by a beautiful ...
... Night Song , Lines to a Swallow , Lessons to be derived from Birds , To a Waterfowl , - A Psalm of Life , - Bernardo and Alphonso , The Lady and Adopted Child , The Death of Keeldar , The Widow of Nain , Lines suggested by a beautiful ...
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... Night , Domestic Happiness , The Divine Origin of Man , To my Mother , The War - Horse , - Shakspere . 91 - Shakspere . 92 - Shakspere . 92 - Shakspere . 94 Milton . 95 Milton . 96 - Milton . 97 Milton . 100 Milton . 100 Dryden's Virgil ...
... Night , Domestic Happiness , The Divine Origin of Man , To my Mother , The War - Horse , - Shakspere . 91 - Shakspere . 92 - Shakspere . 92 - Shakspere . 94 Milton . 95 Milton . 96 - Milton . 97 Milton . 100 Milton . 100 Dryden's Virgil ...
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... night - he summoned his accustomed friends , And , on this wise , bestowed his last bequest : - " Mother ! I'm dying now- There is deep suffocation in my breast , As if some heavy hand my bosom prest ; And on my brow " I feel the cold ...
... night - he summoned his accustomed friends , And , on this wise , bestowed his last bequest : - " Mother ! I'm dying now- There is deep suffocation in my breast , As if some heavy hand my bosom prest ; And on my brow " I feel the cold ...
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... night - I'm weary and must sleep ! Who was it called my name ? -Nay , do not weep , You'll all come soon ! " Morning spread over earth her rosy wings- And that meek sufferer , cold and ivory pale , Lay on his couch asleep ! The gentle ...
... night - I'm weary and must sleep ! Who was it called my name ? -Nay , do not weep , You'll all come soon ! " Morning spread over earth her rosy wings- And that meek sufferer , cold and ivory pale , Lay on his couch asleep ! The gentle ...
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... Night , Domestic Happiness , The Divine Origin of Man , The War - Horse , To my Mother , - · Milton . Milton . Dryden's Virgil . Pope's Homer . Couper . Burns . Southey . Coleridge . Wordsworth . Henry Kirke Wh Job . - Shakspere ...
... Night , Domestic Happiness , The Divine Origin of Man , The War - Horse , To my Mother , - · Milton . Milton . Dryden's Virgil . Pope's Homer . Couper . Burns . Southey . Coleridge . Wordsworth . Henry Kirke Wh Job . - Shakspere ...
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多く使われている語句
Andromache angel beauty beneath billows bird breast bright brothers Canute Cardinal Wolsey Charles Mackay child Christian Patriotism clouds Colma cottage cried dead dear dear Jessy death deep Dismal Swamp doth dread earth eternal fair father fear flowers Forever-never friends glory green grief hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven Henry II hill hung Keeldar king Lausus LEIGH HUNT light live look Lord Mezentius mighty Milton monarch morning mother N. P. WILLIS ne'er nest never Never-forever night o'er ocean poet praise pride Queen Rebel Angels rest rock rose round Salgar seem'd Shakspere sigh silent sing SIR WALTER SCOTT sleep smile song sorrow soul Spanish Armada speak stood storm streams summer sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought throne tree Twas voice weary wild wind wing word Xerxes
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23 ページ - Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
23 ページ - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At' that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
98 ページ - They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms...
70 ページ - Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew. Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view: Like a rose embowered In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflowered, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves. Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain-awakened flowers, All that ever was Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.
60 ページ - Thou first and chief, sole sovereign of the Vale ! O struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky or when they sink : Companion of the morning-star at dawn, Thyself Earth's rosy star, and of the dawn Co-herald : wake, O wake, and utter praise ! Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in Earth ? Who filled thy countenance with rosy light ? Who made thee parent of perpetual streams...
69 ページ - What thou art we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...
87 ページ - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time ; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
54 ページ - Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
64 ページ - The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot Sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead. That is the grasshopper's : he takes the lead In summer luxury — he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
91 ページ - So went to bed : where eagerly his sickness Pursued him still ; and, three nights after this, About the hour of eight, (which he himself Foretold should be his last, ) full of repentance, Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.