Flowers for All SeasonsPartridge, 1854 - 312 páginas |
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Página 32
... thee ? Thou art as timid as the traveller who fears a thief in every bush , as Shakspere hath it . Come , girl , arouse thee , and see if thou can'st not find the where- withal to cheer the inward man , for , verily , " said he ...
... thee ? Thou art as timid as the traveller who fears a thief in every bush , as Shakspere hath it . Come , girl , arouse thee , and see if thou can'st not find the where- withal to cheer the inward man , for , verily , " said he ...
Página 53
... thee , Count Julian , " said the Goth , —and as he spake Trembled through every fibre of his frame , — " The gate of Heaven is open . " Julian threw His wrathful hand aloft , and cried , " Away ! Earth could not hold us both , nor can ...
... thee , Count Julian , " said the Goth , —and as he spake Trembled through every fibre of his frame , — " The gate of Heaven is open . " Julian threw His wrathful hand aloft , and cried , " Away ! Earth could not hold us both , nor can ...
Página 65
... thee , villain , for a murderer ! " Of course the circumstances of the case under- went investigation , but my account was a plausi- ble one ; there were no witnesses to contradict my statement , and I was legally absolved of murder ...
... thee , villain , for a murderer ! " Of course the circumstances of the case under- went investigation , but my account was a plausi- ble one ; there were no witnesses to contradict my statement , and I was legally absolved of murder ...
Página 87
... thee my fame and life . If thou wilt listen for awhile , And pay me , dear one , with a smile , I'll tell a simple tale to thee Of the days of song and chivalry . ' Twas at the time when mail'd men Went forth to the holy fight , When ...
... thee my fame and life . If thou wilt listen for awhile , And pay me , dear one , with a smile , I'll tell a simple tale to thee Of the days of song and chivalry . ' Twas at the time when mail'd men Went forth to the holy fight , When ...
Página 91
... thee . THE EARLY LOST . WHY for the buried should we weep , The cherish'd ones who early died , Departing to their dreamless sleep , Ere aught had chill'd the heart's warm tide ? They left us when no cares of life Had blanch'd the cheek ...
... thee . THE EARLY LOST . WHY for the buried should we weep , The cherish'd ones who early died , Departing to their dreamless sleep , Ere aught had chill'd the heart's warm tide ? They left us when no cares of life Had blanch'd the cheek ...
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Termos e frases comuns
Alloway Alloway Kirk amongst appeared beautiful became beheld bells Ben Jonson breath bright brother Burns Burns's called cheek cheer companions Comus cottage Countess of Tripoli dark daugh dead dear death delight dream dwelling earth existence eyes fair father feel felt flowers gaze gentle gipsy glad hand happy harvest hath heard heart heaven Helvellyn hour of musing JOHN BOLTON Kirk knew lady land light Lilias Young LINLITHGOW PALACE lips listened live look memory merry Milton mind morning mother never night o'er once Paradise Lost Paradise Regained parents passed Peel Castle poem poet poetry ramble Robert Burns scene seemed Shakspere Shakspere's Shanter sighs sister smile song soul sound spirit Stephen Gray sweet Tam o'Shanter tears thee thine things thou wert thought tones Tynwald village voice wandering whilst wife wild wish words Wordsworth youth
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 236 - Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of shades and wanton winds and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks, Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes, That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Página 250 - AVENGE, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold; Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget not; in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks.
Página 187 - Yes, trust them not: for there is an upstart crow beautified with our feathers, that with his tiger's heart, wrapt in a player's hide, supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you; and being an absolute Johannes factotum, is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country.
Página 150 - The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride. His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And " Let us worship God !
Página 236 - And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears ; Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffadillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
Página 234 - In this poem there is no nature, for there is no truth ; there is no art, for there is nothing new. Its form is that of a pastoral ; easy, vulgar, and therefore disgusting ; whatever images it can supply are long ago exhausted ; and its inherent improbability always forces dissatisfaction on the mind. When Cowley tells of Hervey, that they studied together, it is easy to suppose how much he must miss the companion of his labours...
Página 34 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Página 158 - The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter; And ay the ale was growing better: The landlady and Tam grew gracious, Wi' favours, secret, sweet, and precious: The souter tauld his queerest stories; The landlord's laugh was ready chorus: The storm without might rair and rustle, Tam did na mind the storm a whistle. Care, mad to see a man sae happy, E'en drown'd himsel amang the nappy: As bees flee hame wi...
Página 235 - Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights and live laborious days ; But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears And slits the thin-spun life. "But not the praise...
Página 250 - O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple Tyrant ; that from these may grow A hundredfold, who, having learnt thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian woe.