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書籍 Tis a month before the month of May, And the Spring comes slowly up this way. The... の書籍検索結果
" Tis a month before the month of May, And the Spring comes slowly up this way. The lovely lady, Christabel, Whom her father loves so well, What makes her in the wood so late, A furlong from the castle gate? She had dreams all yesternight Of her own betrothed... "
The Eclectic review. vol. 1-New [8th] - 557 ページ
1816
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Blackwood's Magazine, 第 36 巻

1834
...late, A furlong from the castle gate ? She had dreams all yesternight Of her own betrothed knight ; And she in the midnight wood will pray For the weal...far away. " She stole along, she nothing spoke, The sighs she heaved were soft and low, And naught was green upon the oak, But moss and rarest mistletoe...

The Poetical Works of S.T. Coleridge: Including the Dramas of Wallenstein ...

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1828
...late, A furlong from the castle gate ? She had dreams all yesternight Of her own betrothed knight; And she in the midnight wood will pray For the weal...far away. She stole along, she nothing spoke, The sighs she heaved were soft and low, And naught was green upon the oak, But moss and rarest misletoe...

The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One ..., 第 1 巻

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1829 - 575 ページ
...late, A furlong from (he castle gale ? She had dreams all yesternight Of her own betrothed knight; u/ u/`#v/ that 's far away. She stole along, she nothing spoke, The sighs she heaved were soft and low, And nought...

The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1831 - 607 ページ
...late, A furlong from the cnstle gate Î She had dreams all yesternight Of her own betrothed knight ; another's love, Interpreted my own. •Thin piece may bo found, that '« far away. She stole along, »ho nothing spoke, * The sighs «he heaved were soft and low,...

The British Critic, Quarterly Theological Review, and Ecclesiastical ..., 第 16 巻

1834
...late, A furlong from the castle gate ' She had dreams all yesternight Of her own betrothed knight; And she in the midnight wood will pray For the weal...far away. " She stole along, she nothing spoke, The sighs she heav'd were soft and low, And naught was green upon the oak, But moss and rarest miseltoe...

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, 第 36 巻

1834
...A furlong from the castle gate ? , ., She had dreams all yesternight Of her own betrothed knight ; And she in the midnight wood will pray For the weal...far away. " She stole along, she nothing spoke, The sighs she heaved were soft and low, And naught was green upon the, oak, . t : But moss and rarest mistletoe...

The Dublin University Magazine, 第 6 巻

1835
...late, A furlong from the castle gate ? She hii'l dreams all yesternight Of her own betrothed knight ; And she in the midnight wood will pray For the weal...far away. She stole along, she nothing spoke, * The sighs she heaved were soft and low, And naught was green upon the oak, But moss and rarest misletoe...

The Dublin University Magazine: A Literary and Political Journal

1835
...She bud dreams all yesternight Of her own betrothed knight ; And she in the midnight wood will prey For the weal of her lover that's far away. She stole along, she nothing spoke, • The sighs she heaved were soft and low, And naught was green upon the oak. But moss and rarest misletoe...

The Life of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 第 1 巻

James Gillman - 1838 - 362 ページ
...late, A furlong from the castle gate ? She had dreams all yesternight Of her own betrothed knight; And she in the midnight wood will pray For the weal...far away. She stole along, she nothing spoke, The sighs she heaved were soft and low, And naught was green upon the oak, But moss and rarest misletoe...

The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1838 - 603 ページ
...furlong from the castle gnte :' She hud dreams all yesternight Of her own betrothed knight ; And the in the midnight wood will pray For the weal of her...far away. She stole along, she nothing spoke, The sighs she heaved were soft and low, And naught was green upon the oak. But moss and rarest mislctoe...




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