The Home Affections Pourtrayed by the PoetsCharles Mackay G. Routledge & Company, 1858 - 391 páginas |
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... breast of youth , irradiates the countenance of age , and sheds a divine light on the pathway of man's life , from the cradle to the grave . In the Literature of every nation , ancient or modern , whether called by the name of Love or ...
... breast of youth , irradiates the countenance of age , and sheds a divine light on the pathway of man's life , from the cradle to the grave . In the Literature of every nation , ancient or modern , whether called by the name of Love or ...
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... breast ; whate'er thou art Or wert , a young Aurora of the air , The nympholepsy of some fond despair ; Or , it might be , a beauty of the earth , Who found a more than common votary there , Too much adoring ; whatsoe'er thy birth ...
... breast ; whate'er thou art Or wert , a young Aurora of the air , The nympholepsy of some fond despair ; Or , it might be , a beauty of the earth , Who found a more than common votary there , Too much adoring ; whatsoe'er thy birth ...
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... breast to his replying , Blend a celestial with a human heart ; And Love , which dies as it was born , in sighing , Share with immortal transports ? Could thine art Make them indeed immortal , and impart The purity of heaven to earthly ...
... breast to his replying , Blend a celestial with a human heart ; And Love , which dies as it was born , in sighing , Share with immortal transports ? Could thine art Make them indeed immortal , and impart The purity of heaven to earthly ...
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... breast- And occupation , and alternate rest ; And dear to care and thought the usual walk ; Theirs be no flower that withers on the stalk , But roses cropp'd , that shall not bloom in vain ; And hope's bless'd sun , that sets to rise ...
... breast- And occupation , and alternate rest ; And dear to care and thought the usual walk ; Theirs be no flower that withers on the stalk , But roses cropp'd , that shall not bloom in vain ; And hope's bless'd sun , that sets to rise ...
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... . And , on this wise , bestow'd his last bequest . " " Mother , I'm dying now- There is deep suffocation in my breast , As if some heavy hand my bosom prest ; And on my brow THE DYING BOY . " I feel the cold sweat. 27 THE DYING.
... . And , on this wise , bestow'd his last bequest . " " Mother , I'm dying now- There is deep suffocation in my breast , As if some heavy hand my bosom prest ; And on my brow THE DYING BOY . " I feel the cold sweat. 27 THE DYING.
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Termos e frases comuns
Alfred Tennyson Allan Cunningham angels babe Barry Cornwall beauty beneath bird bless bonnie bosom bower Braes of Yarrow breast breath bride bright brow busk Canst thou forget Charles Mackay cheek child dark DAVID BOOTH dead dear death doth dream DUNMOW earth eyes face fair farewell fear flowers fond frae gentle Gerald Massey grave grief hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven HERO AND LEANDER hope hour kiss lassie light lips lonely look love thee Love's maid Maire bhan maun morning mother mournful N. P. Willis ne'er never night o'er Oriana rose round seem'd shine sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit stars sweet tears Teviotdale thine Thomas Hood thou art thou wert thought tree Twas VIRGINIA DARE voice waves weary weep wild wind wings yon lane glen youth
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 63 - TURN, gentle hermit of the dale, And guide my lonely way, To where yon taper cheers the vale, With hospitable ray. 'For here forlorn and lost I tread. With fainting steps and slow; Where wilds immeasurably spread. Seem lengthening as I go.' 'Forbear, my son,' the hermit cries, 'To tempt the dangerous gloom; For yonder faithless phantom flies To lure thee to thy doom.
Página 195 - The castled crag of Drachenfels Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine, And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scatter'd cities crowning these, Whose far white walls along them shine, Have strew'da scene, which I should see With double joy wert thou with me.
Página 138 - I forget the hallowed grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met, To live one day of parting love ! " Eternity will not efface Those records dear of transports past ; Thy image at our last embrace ; Ah ! little thought we 'twas our last ! " Ayr gurgling kiss'd his pebbled shore, O'erhung with wild woods, thickening, green, The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar, Twin'd amorous round the raptured scene.
Página 50 - Thou wast that all to me, love, For which my soul did pine — A green isle in the sea, love, A fountain and a shrine, All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers, And all the flowers were mine. Ah, dream too bright to last! Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise But to be overcast! A voice from out the Future cries, "On! on!"— but o'er the Past (Dim gulf) my spirit hovering lies Mute, motionless, aghast!
Página 148 - I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright; I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me — who knows how?
Página 193 - Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls, Come hither, the dances are done, In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls, Queen lily and rose in one; Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls, To the flowers, and be their sun.
Página 284 - And down she suck'd with her the whirling wave, Like one who grapples with his enemy, And strives to strangle him before he die. And first one universal shriek there rush'd...
Página 62 - Deeply ripened ; — such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn. Round her eyes her tresses fell, Which were blackest none could tell, But long lashes veiled a light, That had else been all too bright.
Página 379 - THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES I HAVE had playmates, I have had companions In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days ; All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
Página 367 - MY JO. JOHN Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent ; Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent ; But now your brow is beld, John Your locks are like the snaw ; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi...