The Chilswell Book of English PoetryLongmans, Green, 1924 - 272 sidor |
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Sida 3
... soon they all say , Such , such were the joys When we all - girls and boys- In our youth - time were seen On the echoing Green . ' Till the little ones , weary , No more can be merry ; The sun does descend , And our sports have an end ...
... soon they all say , Such , such were the joys When we all - girls and boys- In our youth - time were seen On the echoing Green . ' Till the little ones , weary , No more can be merry ; The sun does descend , And our sports have an end ...
Sida 11
... soon or late , Let what will be o'er me ; Give the face of earth around And the road before me . Wealth I seek not , hope nor love , Nor a friend to know me ; All I seek , the heaven above And the road below me . Or let autumn fall on ...
... soon or late , Let what will be o'er me ; Give the face of earth around And the road before me . Wealth I seek not , hope nor love , Nor a friend to know me ; All I seek , the heaven above And the road below me . Or let autumn fall on ...
Sida 12
19 Let the blow fall soon or late , Let what will be o'er me ; Give the face of earth around , And the road before me . Wealth I ask not , hope nor love , Nor a friend to know me . All I ask , the heaven above , And the road below me ...
19 Let the blow fall soon or late , Let what will be o'er me ; Give the face of earth around , And the road before me . Wealth I ask not , hope nor love , Nor a friend to know me . All I ask , the heaven above , And the road below me ...
Sida 24
... soon ; Rest , rest , on mother's breast , Father will come to thee soon ; Father will come to his babe in the nest , Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon : Sleep , my little one , sleep , my pretty one , sleep ...
... soon ; Rest , rest , on mother's breast , Father will come to thee soon ; Father will come to his babe in the nest , Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon : Sleep , my little one , sleep , my pretty one , sleep ...
Sida 25
... soon will come , When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum ; Then hush thee , my darling , take rest while you may , For strife comes with manhood , and waking with day . Scott , 1815 . 37 A Faery Song ( SUNG BY THE Fairies ...
... soon will come , When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum ; Then hush thee , my darling , take rest while you may , For strife comes with manhood , and waking with day . Scott , 1815 . 37 A Faery Song ( SUNG BY THE Fairies ...
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A. E. Housman auld auld lang syne beauty beneath birds blow breath bright Burns calm Cassius cloud cold dark dead dear death deep delight doth dread dream earth echoing Green eyes fair Farewell flowers glory grave green hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Henry Newbolt hill John Anderson king Kirconnell land Laurence Binyon leaves light live lonely Lord loud Lycidas maun Milton mirth mist moon morning never night o'er pain pale peace Plymouth Hoe poem Quinquereme rest Ring round seem'd Shakespeare Shelley ship shore silent sing sleep song sorrow soul sound spirit Spring stanza stars stood stream sweet syne tears thee thine things thou art thought tree True Thomas Twas voice W. B. Yeats W. H. Davies waves weary wild wind wings woods youth
Populära avsnitt
Sida 175 - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee!
Sida 163 - Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
Sida 16 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Sida 175 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Sida 174 - MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, > Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Sida 162 - THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady ? What men or gods are these?
Sida 205 - Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well...
Sida 85 - For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that, The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher ranks than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that, That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Sida 18 - O Captain! My Captain! O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain!
Sida 26 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log, at last, dry, bald, and sere: A lily of a day, Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall, and die that night; It was the plant, and flower of light. In small proportions, we just beauties see: And in short measures, life may perfect be.