Gift of Flowers: Love's Wreath for 1854Rufus Wilmot Griswold Leavitt & Allen, 1854 - 287 páginas |
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Página 12
... hath planned . To that cathedral , boundless as our wonder , Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply ; Its choir the winds and waves - its organ thunder- Its dome the sky . There as in solitude and shade I wander , Through the ...
... hath planned . To that cathedral , boundless as our wonder , Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply ; Its choir the winds and waves - its organ thunder- Its dome the sky . There as in solitude and shade I wander , Through the ...
Página 44
... hath waked the rose , To deck the hall where the bright wine flows . Bring flowers to strew in the conqueror's path-- He hath shaken thrones with his stormy wrath ' He comes with the spoils of nations back , The vines he crush'd in his ...
... hath waked the rose , To deck the hall where the bright wine flows . Bring flowers to strew in the conqueror's path-- He hath shaken thrones with his stormy wrath ' He comes with the spoils of nations back , The vines he crush'd in his ...
Página 45
... hath bid farewell to her father's hearth . Her place is now by another's side- Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride . Bring flowers , pale flowers , o'er the bier to shed , A crown for the brow of the early dead ! For ...
... hath bid farewell to her father's hearth . Her place is now by another's side- Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride . Bring flowers , pale flowers , o'er the bier to shed , A crown for the brow of the early dead ! For ...
Página 47
... Hath fallen the noon - tide sleep , my joyous bird : And through thy parted lips the breath , scarce heard , Comes like a summer sigh . One rosy hand is thrown Beneath thy rosier cheek : the other holds A group of sweet field - flowers ...
... Hath fallen the noon - tide sleep , my joyous bird : And through thy parted lips the breath , scarce heard , Comes like a summer sigh . One rosy hand is thrown Beneath thy rosier cheek : the other holds A group of sweet field - flowers ...
Página 50
... Hath laid her weary head ; But thou , wild bramble ! back dost bring , In all their beauteous power , The fresh green days of life's fair spring , And boyhood's blossomy hour . Scorn'd bramble of the brake ! once more Thou bidd'st me be ...
... Hath laid her weary head ; But thou , wild bramble ! back dost bring , In all their beauteous power , The fresh green days of life's fair spring , And boyhood's blossomy hour . Scorn'd bramble of the brake ! once more Thou bidd'st me be ...
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Termos e frases comuns
Amaranth BARRY CORNWALL beauty beneath BERNARD BARTON bloom blossoms blue blush bosom boughs bowers breast breath breeze bright BROKEN FLOWER buds charms cheek child cloud cold Cowslip DAFFODILS daisy dead dear delight dost doth dreams drooping earth fair fairest Fancy crown flowerets fragrance gale garden gaze gentle flower glow golden grace green hath heart heaven hour JOHN KEATS JOHN STERLING leaf leaves life's light lily little rose lone look'd love's MELROSE ABBEY morning Narcissus nature's ne'er NOSEGAY nymph o'er odours pale pass'd perfume pride primrose purple rill round scarlet pimpernel scent sensitive plant shade shed shine showers sigh silent skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit spring star stream summer sunny sweet tears tender thee thine thou art thought tomb tree twine vale vernal violet wall-flower weep wild wind wind-flower wing winter wither'd
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 31 - And the Naiad-like lily of the vale, Whom youth makes so fair and passion so pale, That the light of its tremulous bells is seen Through their pavilions of tender green...
Página 215 - You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attain'd his noon. Stay, stay Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having pray'd together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring ; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing. We die, As your hours do, and dry Away Like to the Summer's rain ; Or as the pearls of morning's dew, Ne'er to be found again.
Página 118 - Dis's waggon! daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale prim-roses That die unmarried ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength...
Página 122 - Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er! Such fate to suffering worth is given.
Página 156 - And noble arch in proud decay, Look o'er this vale of vintage-bowers ; But one thing want these banks of Rhine, — Thy gentle hand to clasp in mine...
Página 127 - Go, lovely Rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That had'st thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired; Bid her come forth! Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired.
Página 214 - Fair daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon; As yet the early rising sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along.
Página 231 - THERE is a flower, a little flower, With silver crest and golden eye, That welcomes every changing hour, And weathers every sky. The prouder beauties of the field In gay but quick succession shine, Race after race their honours yield, They flourish and decline. But this small flower, to Nature dear, While moons and stars their courses run, Wreathes the whole circle of the year, Companion of the Sun.
Página 22 - Neath cloistered boughs each floral bell that swingeth And tolls its perfume on the passing air Makes Sabbath in the fields, and ever ringeth A call to prayer : Not to the domes where crumbling arch and column Attest the feebleness of mortal hand, But to that fane most catholic and solemn Which God hath plann'd,— To that cathedral, boundless as our wonder, Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply, Its choir the winds and waves, its organ thunder, Its dome the sky.