Favourite English poems and poets1870 - 672 ページ |
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ix ページ
... dying Christian to his Soul 273 ALLAN RAMSAY . — 1685-1758 . Farewell to Lochaber 274 . 206 JOHN BYROM . - 1691-1763 . 208 A Pastoral 276 258 HENRY CAREY . - 1700-43 . Sally in our Alley . 279 209 JAMES THOMSON . - 1700-48 . 211 214 A ...
... dying Christian to his Soul 273 ALLAN RAMSAY . — 1685-1758 . Farewell to Lochaber 274 . 206 JOHN BYROM . - 1691-1763 . 208 A Pastoral 276 258 HENRY CAREY . - 1700-43 . Sally in our Alley . 279 209 JAMES THOMSON . - 1700-48 . 211 214 A ...
12 ページ
... died in 1529. Besides his " Philip Sparow , " Skelton was the author of another " litle boke , " " Colyn Clout , " and of a drama in rhyme , extending to over 2500 verses . His works have recently been edited by the Rev. Alexander Dyce ...
... died in 1529. Besides his " Philip Sparow , " Skelton was the author of another " litle boke , " " Colyn Clout , " and of a drama in rhyme , extending to over 2500 verses . His works have recently been edited by the Rev. Alexander Dyce ...
13 ページ
... died about the year 1530 ; but neither the date nor circumstances of his death are known . His works remained in manuscript until the beginning of the last century ; nor were they rescued from obscurity until their language had become ...
... died about the year 1530 ; but neither the date nor circumstances of his death are known . His works remained in manuscript until the beginning of the last century ; nor were they rescued from obscurity until their language had become ...
15 ページ
... died himself , fro ' dead him to succour ; O , whether was kythit there true love or none ? He is most true and stedfast paramour , And love is lost but upon him alone . The Merle said , Why put God so great beauty In ladies , with sic ...
... died himself , fro ' dead him to succour ; O , whether was kythit there true love or none ? He is most true and stedfast paramour , And love is lost but upon him alone . The Merle said , Why put God so great beauty In ladies , with sic ...
18 ページ
... died in 1541 . His love , as appears from his poems , was not prosperous ; but he did not take his bad fortune much to heart ; he was " the lover who waxeth wyser , and will not die for affection . " ] BLAME not my Lute ! for he must ...
... died in 1541 . His love , as appears from his poems , was not prosperous ; but he did not take his bad fortune much to heart ; he was " the lover who waxeth wyser , and will not die for affection . " ] BLAME not my Lute ! for he must ...
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a-thynkynge beauty beneath bird BIRKET FOSTER blow born breast breath bright CHRISTOPHER MARLOW clouds CRESWICK dead dear death delight died doth dream E. H. WEHNERT E. M. WIMPERIS earth eyes Faerie Queene fair fame favourite fear flowers gentle GEORGE THOMAS glory grace grave green grief groves GUSTAVE Doré happy HARRISON WEIR hath hear heard heart heaven hill honour Hudibras Inchcape Rock JOHN GILBERT JOSHUA SYLVESTER King lady light live Lochaber look Lord Lute Lycidas merry mind morn mother ne'er never night Nightingale o'er Palie Piers Ploughman pleasure poem poet poetry praise pray Queen rise rose round sche seem'd shade shepherd sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound swain tears tell thee thine thou art thought Twas voice waves weary Westminster Abbey wild wind youth
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318 ページ - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay. Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made : But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied.
307 ページ - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his fav'rite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn:' THE EPITAPH Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.
304 ページ - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er...
582 ページ - And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the Presence in the room he said, " What writest thou ?" The Vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, " The names of those who love the Lord." " And is mine one ? " said Abou. " Nay, not so,
70 ページ - FEAR no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
419 ページ - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
301 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.
299 ページ - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
494 ページ - Are those her ribs through which the Sun, Did peer, as through a grate ? And is that Woman all her crew ? Is that a DEATH ? and are there two ? Is DEATH that woman's mate ? Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold : Her skin was as white as leprosy, The Night-Mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold. The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice ; " The game is done ! I've won ! I've won ! " Quoth she, and whistles thrice.
552 ページ - Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy Soul's immensity ; Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind, — Mighty Prophet ! Seer blest ! On whom those truths do rest, Which we are toiling all our lives to find, In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave ; Thou, over whom thy Immortality Broods like the Day, a Master o'er a Slave, A Presence which is not to be put by ;...