Poetical selections, consisting of the most approved pieces of our best British poets, excellent specimens of fugitive poetry, and some original pieces by Cowper, Darwin, and others |
この書籍内から
検索結果1-5 / 55
x ページ
... Grave of an Officer The Mariner .. Exile of Erin Stanzas , written for the Shrine of Bertha The Butterfly to his Love Ode to Melancholy Reflections .. Shipwreck Ode .. .. To Melancholy Pious Memory The Fugitive The Poplars Felled The ...
... Grave of an Officer The Mariner .. Exile of Erin Stanzas , written for the Shrine of Bertha The Butterfly to his Love Ode to Melancholy Reflections .. Shipwreck Ode .. .. To Melancholy Pious Memory The Fugitive The Poplars Felled The ...
xi ページ
... Grave of a Suicide .. Lines written at Midnight Resignation Fancy .. .. .. .. The Complaint of Colma .. ditto 292 Rogers 293 Chatterton ib . .. Anon . 296 .. .. Anon . 297 POETICAL SELECTIONS . Martial . BATTLES OF TALAVERA . ANONYMOUS.
... Grave of a Suicide .. Lines written at Midnight Resignation Fancy .. .. .. .. The Complaint of Colma .. ditto 292 Rogers 293 Chatterton ib . .. Anon . 296 .. .. Anon . 297 POETICAL SELECTIONS . Martial . BATTLES OF TALAVERA . ANONYMOUS.
4 ページ
... tis come , the trial hour , " Each to his destin'd post : " And when you charge , be this your cry , " Britons strike home ; and win or die , - " The grave or victory ! " And it is now a goodly sight , Or dreadful POETICAL SELECTIONS .
... tis come , the trial hour , " Each to his destin'd post : " And when you charge , be this your cry , " Britons strike home ; and win or die , - " The grave or victory ! " And it is now a goodly sight , Or dreadful POETICAL SELECTIONS .
5 ページ
... Whose fate shall ne'er at home be told , Whose very names the grave shall fold ;, Many , for whose return in vain The wistful eye of love shall strain , In vain parental fondness sigh , And filial sorrow mourn POETICAL SELECTIONS . 5.
... Whose fate shall ne'er at home be told , Whose very names the grave shall fold ;, Many , for whose return in vain The wistful eye of love shall strain , In vain parental fondness sigh , And filial sorrow mourn POETICAL SELECTIONS . 5.
10 ページ
... grave : - And now before their mutual fires They yield , and now advance ; And now ' tis Britain that retires . And now the line of France : They struggle long with changeful fate ; And all the battle's various cries , Now deprest and ...
... grave : - And now before their mutual fires They yield , and now advance ; And now ' tis Britain that retires . And now the line of France : They struggle long with changeful fate ; And all the battle's various cries , Now deprest and ...
他の版 - すべて表示
多く使われている語句
ANN RADCLIFFE BATTLES OF TALAVERA beam behold beneath black crows blast blest bliss bloom Bolus bosom breast breath breeze bright brow charms cheerful clouds cold Colma coursers cried dæmon dark dead death deep dread drear drest E'en Erin go bragh ev'ry fade fair fame fancy fate fear fire flowers gale gloom grave green GRONGAR HILL Haman hear heart heaven hill hope hour Lady light lonely lord of war lov'd lyre maid mark'd moon morning mountain mourn muse night numbers o'er pale peace pensive PINDAR plain pow'r pride repose rill rise rose round scene seem'd shade shore sigh silent sleep smil'd smile soft song soothing soul sound spectre spring storm stream sweet tear tempest thee thine thou thro tomb trembling Twas Twizzle vale voice wave weep wild wind wood Zounds
人気のある引用
18 ページ - Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave...
19 ページ - 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 flush'd To anticipate the scene; And her van the fleeter rush'd O'er the deadly space between. "Hearts of oak!
169 ページ - Await alike th' inevitable hour : — The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn, or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of Death...
118 ページ - I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.' The boat has left a stormy land, A stormy sea before her, — When, oh ! too strong for human hand The tempest gather'd o'er her.
20 ページ - Again ! again ! again ! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back; — Their shots along the deep slowly boom: Then ceased — and all is wail, As they strike the shattered sail, Or in conflagration pale Light the gloom.
16 ページ - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
221 ページ - He threw his blood-stain'd sword, in thunder, down ; And, with a withering look, The war-denouncing trumpet took, And blew a blast so loud and dread, Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe...
52 ページ - Now sinks at last, or feebly mans the soul; While low delights, succeeding fast behind, In happier meanness occupy the mind : As in those domes, where Caesars once bore sway, Defaced by time and tottering in decay, There in the ruin, heedless of the dead, The shelter-seeking peasant builds his shed ; And, wondering man could want the larger pile, Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile.
48 ページ - Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, My heart, untravell'd, fondly turns to thee : Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain, And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.
219 ページ - Adieu !" At length, his transient respite past. His comrades, who before Had heard his voice in every blast, Could catch the sound no more ; For then, by toil subdued, he drank The stifling wave, and then he sank. No poet wept him : but the page Of narrative sincere, That tells his name, his worth, his age. Is wet with Anson's tear i And tears by bards or heroes shed, Alike immortalize the dead.