PoemsE. Moxon, son & Company, 1871 - 109 páginas |
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Resultados 1-5 de 12
Página 6
... tear Was shed for home , that lay beyond the lee ; - She was purveyor for his other dear Mary , and for the infant yet to be Fruit of their married loves . These made him dote Upon the homely beauties of his boat , Whose pitch black ...
... tear Was shed for home , that lay beyond the lee ; - She was purveyor for his other dear Mary , and for the infant yet to be Fruit of their married loves . These made him dote Upon the homely beauties of his boat , Whose pitch black ...
Página 6
... tear Was shed for home , that lay beyond the lee ; - She was purveyor for his other dear Mary , and for the infant yet to be Fruit of their married loves . These made him dote Upon the homely beauties of his boat , Whose pitch black ...
... tear Was shed for home , that lay beyond the lee ; - She was purveyor for his other dear Mary , and for the infant yet to be Fruit of their married loves . These made him dote Upon the homely beauties of his boat , Whose pitch black ...
Página 11
... tear - drops in a salter flood , Their fame still breathing , tho ' their death be past , For those old suitors lived beyond their last . So Julio went to drown , -when life was dull , But took his corks , and merely had a bath ; And ...
... tear - drops in a salter flood , Their fame still breathing , tho ' their death be past , For those old suitors lived beyond their last . So Julio went to drown , -when life was dull , But took his corks , and merely had a bath ; And ...
Página 32
... tear away the prop So roughly as to wound , nay , kill the bine ? The images , ' tis true , are strangely dress'd , With gauds and toys extremely out of season ; The carving nothing of the very best , The whole repugnant to the eye of ...
... tear away the prop So roughly as to wound , nay , kill the bine ? The images , ' tis true , are strangely dress'd , With gauds and toys extremely out of season ; The carving nothing of the very best , The whole repugnant to the eye of ...
Página 44
... tears ? -why clasped hands ? — Is it to count the boy's expended dow'r ? That fairies since have broke their gifted wands ? That young Delight , like any o'erblown flow'r , Gave , one by one , its sweet leaves to the ground ? — Why then ...
... tears ? -why clasped hands ? — Is it to count the boy's expended dow'r ? That fairies since have broke their gifted wands ? That young Delight , like any o'erblown flow'r , Gave , one by one , its sweet leaves to the ground ? — Why then ...
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Términos y frases comunes
bark Bay of Naples Beast Bedfont Behold beneath Bianca billows blessed bloom brave breath Bridge of Sighs bright brow cheeks Christian clasp clouds cold dark dear death deep Doth DOVER STREET dream Eau de Cologne Ev'n ev'ry eyes face fair fancy feast flow'rs gallant gaze glowing gondolier grief GUSTAVE DORÉ hand hath heart heav'n HODGE BOUND LEIGHTON holy Holy Isle HOOD'S humble hymns Julio light lily lips Live Sir Otto look look'd maiden Meanwhile Melancholy Moon MOORISH morning MOXON ne'er never o'er ocean once peasant pious poor pray'r pride REGENT STREET remember Rhine rich rose roses bud Rotterdam Sabbath sail Saint Saracen scorn seem'd shine shone sighs skies sleep solemn sorrow soul stern sweet swell SWIFT AND CO tears thee THOMAS HOOD thou thought thro turn'd Twas vanquish'd the Dragon vassals stood Venetian virgin warm watch wave Whilst Woodgate
Pasajes populares
Página 101 - The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away! I remember, I remember, The roses, red and white, The violets, and the lily-cups, Those flowers made of light!
Página 102 - I remember, I remember Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing ; My spirit flew in feathers then That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow. I remember, I remember The fir-trees dark and high ; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky. It was a childish ignorance, — But now 'tis little joy: To know I'm farther off from heaven Than when I was a boy ! THOMAS HOOD.
Página 36 - ... To his tuned spirit the wild heather-bells Ring Sabbath knells ; The jubilate of the soaring lark Is chant of clerk ; For Choir, the thrush and the gregarious linnet ; The sod's a cushion for his pious want ; And, consecrated by the heaven within it, The sky-blue pool, a font. Each cloud-capped mountain is a holy altar ; An organ breathes in every grove ; And the full heart's a Psalter, Rich in deep hymns of gratitude and love...
Página 32 - Mild light, and by degrees, should be the plan To cure the dark and erring mind ; But who would rush at a benighted man, And give him two black eyes for being blind...
Página 41 - MOTHER of light ! how fairly dost thou go Over those hoary crests, divinely led ! — Art thou that huntress of the silver bow Fabled of old ? Or rather dost thou tread Those cloudy summits thence to gaze below, Like the wild chamois from her Alpine snow, Where hunter never...
Página 58 - The ghost of the late-buried sun Had crept into the skies. The Moon ! she is the source of sighs, The very face to make us sad ; If but to think in other times The same calm quiet look she had, As if the world held nothing base, Of vile and mean, of fierce and bad ; The same...
Página 1 - LOOK how the golden ocean shines above Its pebbly stones, and magnifies their girth ; So does the bright and blessed light of love Its own things glorify, and raise their worth.
Página 21 - m only bilious — Nor study in my sanctum supercilious To frame a Sabbath Bill or forge a Bull. I pray for grace — repent each sinful act — Peruse, but underneath the rose, my Bible ; And love my neighbor far too well, in fact, To call and twit him with a godly tract That's...
Página 36 - Thrice blessed, rather, is the man with whom The gracious prodigality of nature, The balm, the bliss, the beauty, and the bloom, The bounteous providence in every feature, Recall the good Creator to his creature, Making all earth a fane, all heaven its dome ! To his tuned spirit the wild heather-bells Ring Sabbath knells...
Página 59 - There's not a string attuned to mirth, But has its chord in Melancholy.