Poetry for Home and School ...S.G. Simpkins, 1846 |
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... Patrick Spence Lucy To a Mouse To a Mountain Daisy The Graves of a Household The Solitary Reaper The Adopted Child Psalm.CXLVIII . Peace of Mind • An Elegy written in a Country Churchyard . Ye Mariners of England · • Leigh Hunt .. 98 ...
... Patrick Spence Lucy To a Mouse To a Mountain Daisy The Graves of a Household The Solitary Reaper The Adopted Child Psalm.CXLVIII . Peace of Mind • An Elegy written in a Country Churchyard . Ye Mariners of England · • Leigh Hunt .. 98 ...
Sida 110
... PATRICK SPENCE . THE king sits in Dunfermline town , Drinking the blude - red wine : " O , where shall I get a skeely skipper To sail this ship of mine ? " O , up and spake an eldern ... Patrick read , Sae loud 110 SIR PATRICK SPENCE .
... PATRICK SPENCE . THE king sits in Dunfermline town , Drinking the blude - red wine : " O , where shall I get a skeely skipper To sail this ship of mine ? " O , up and spake an eldern ... Patrick read , Sae loud 110 SIR PATRICK SPENCE .
Sida 111
... Patrick read , The tear blinded his e'e . 66 " O , wha is this has done this deed , This ill deed done to me ; To send me out , this time o ' the year , To sail upon the sea ? " Be it wind , be it weet , be it hail ... PATRICK SPENCE . 111.
... Patrick read , The tear blinded his e'e . 66 " O , wha is this has done this deed , This ill deed done to me ; To send me out , this time o ' the year , To sail upon the sea ? " Be it wind , be it weet , be it hail ... PATRICK SPENCE . 111.
Sida 112
... played , They wat their hats aboon . And mony was the feather - bed That flattered on the faem ; And mony was the gude lord's son , That never mair came hame . The ladies wrang their fingers white , The maidens tore 112 SIR PATRICK SPENCE .
... played , They wat their hats aboon . And mony was the feather - bed That flattered on the faem ; And mony was the gude lord's son , That never mair came hame . The ladies wrang their fingers white , The maidens tore 112 SIR PATRICK SPENCE .
Sida 113
... Patrick Spence Come sailing to the land . And lang , lang , may the maidens sit , Wi ' their gold kaims in their hair , A ' waiting for their ain dear loves ! For they'll see them nae mair . O , forty miles off Aberdeen , " T is fifty ...
... Patrick Spence Come sailing to the land . And lang , lang , may the maidens sit , Wi ' their gold kaims in their hair , A ' waiting for their ain dear loves ! For they'll see them nae mair . O , forty miles off Aberdeen , " T is fifty ...
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Poetry for Home and School: Selected by the Author of the Theory of Teaching ... Anna C. Lowell Ingen förhandsgranskning - 2015 |
Poetry for Home and School: Selected by the Author of the Theory of Teaching ... Anna C. Lowell Ingen förhandsgranskning - 2018 |
Vanliga ord och fraser
beauty beneath bird Birdie blessed bloom breast breath bright brow canst cheer child coursers Crocodile customed hill dark dear death delight dost doth E'en earth fair fairy father fear flowers fly away home glory gone grass grave green grief hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hill Inchcape Inchcape rock John Barleycorn King lady lady-bird land light live look Lord loud Mary Howitt maun merry mind mother mountain mourn ne'er never night numbers o'er Old English Poetry Patrick Spence poor praise Queen renegado rock rose round sail Samian wine shining shining book shore silent sing singing bee sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spring stars storm stream sweet tears tempests thee thine thing thou art thou hast thought top-mast tree voice wakeful eye wandering waves weep wild wind wings
Populära avsnitt
Sida 70 - The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose, The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare, Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair ; The sunshine is a glorious birth ; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
Sida 111 - Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go On the light fantastic toe, And in thy right hand lead with thee The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty ; And if I give thee honour due, Mirth, admit me of thy crew To live with her, and live with thee In unreproved pleasures free...
Sida 64 - Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? — God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God!
Sida 128 - The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learned to stray; Along the cool sequestered vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Sida 156 - SHE was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
Sida 75 - And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves, Forebode not any severing of our loves ! Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might ; I only have relinquished one delight To live beneath your more habitual sway.
Sida 162 - Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said — 'And they answered not our cheer ! The planks look warped ! and see those sails, How thin they are and sere! I never saw aught like to them, Unless perchance it were Brown skeletons of leaves that lag My forest-brook along; When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, And the owlet whoops to the wolf below That eats the she-wolf's young.
Sida 134 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Sida 76 - God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Sida 102 - I'll row you o'er the ferry.' By this the storm grew loud apace, The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men, Their trampling sounded nearer. ' O haste thee, haste ! ' the lady cries, 'Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.