Routledge's readings, selected and arranged by E. RoutledgeEdmund Routledge 1871 |
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Αποτελέσματα 1 - 5 από τα 23.
Σελίδα 8
... sweet cuckoo - flowers ; And the wild marsh - marigold shines like fire in swamps and hollows gray , And I'm to be Queen o ' the May , mother , I'm to be Queen o ' the May . All the valley , mother , ' ill be fresh and green and still ...
... sweet cuckoo - flowers ; And the wild marsh - marigold shines like fire in swamps and hollows gray , And I'm to be Queen o ' the May , mother , I'm to be Queen o ' the May . All the valley , mother , ' ill be fresh and green and still ...
Σελίδα 9
... upon your face ; Tho ' I cannot speak a word , I shall hearken what you say , And be often , often with you when you think I'm far away . Good - night , sweet mother : call me before The May Queen . 9 New Year's Alfred Tennyson.
... upon your face ; Tho ' I cannot speak a word , I shall hearken what you say , And be often , often with you when you think I'm far away . Good - night , sweet mother : call me before The May Queen . 9 New Year's Alfred Tennyson.
Σελίδα 10
... sweet is the new violet , that comes between the skies , And sweeter is the young lamb's voice to me that cannot rise , And sweet is all the land about , and all the flowers that blow , And sweeter far is death than life to me that long ...
... sweet is the new violet , that comes between the skies , And sweeter is the young lamb's voice to me that cannot rise , And sweet is all the land about , and all the flowers that blow , And sweeter far is death than life to me that long ...
Σελίδα 13
... sweet and strange it seems to me , that ere this day is done The voice that now is speaking , may be beyond the sun- For ever and for ever with those just souls and true— And what is life , that we should moan ? why make we such ado ...
... sweet and strange it seems to me , that ere this day is done The voice that now is speaking , may be beyond the sun- For ever and for ever with those just souls and true— And what is life , that we should moan ? why make we such ado ...
Σελίδα 16
... sweet sake a heart that doats on truer charms , A simple maiden in her flower is worth a hundred coats - of - arms . Lady Clara Vere de Vere , some meeker pupil you must find , For were you queen of all that is , I could not stoop to ...
... sweet sake a heart that doats on truer charms , A simple maiden in her flower is worth a hundred coats - of - arms . Lady Clara Vere de Vere , some meeker pupil you must find , For were you queen of all that is , I could not stoop to ...
Άλλες εκδόσεις - Προβολή όλων
Routledge's Readings, Selected and Arranged by E. Routledge Edmund Routledge Δεν υπάρχει διαθέσιμη προεπισκόπηση - 2019 |
Συχνά εμφανιζόμενοι όροι και φράσεις
ALFRED TENNYSON Alice the nurse Allen-a-Dale Angel arms BATTLE OF WATERLOO bless bosom breast breath bright brow call me early CHARLES DICKENS child CHLORODYNE cried dark dead death Dendermond door Dora EDWIN WAUGH eyes face father fear feet fell flowers Floy galloped gazed glad New-year grave hall hand head hear heard heart Heaven honour King Robert kiss Lady Clara Vere Lady Clare laughed Learn to labour light lips Lochiel Lochinvar look look'd Lord FRANCIS CONYNGHAM Lord Ronald morning mother dear N. P. WILLIS never night o'er pray prayer Queen river Lee rode rose round rushed Saint Peter's Square Shandon silence smiled snow soul sound steed stood sweet tears tell thee thou thought thunder to-morrow told trembling Trim twas uncle Toby Vere de Vere voice wall watched wave wild wind word young
Δημοφιλή αποσπάσματα
Σελίδα 55 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted ! Let us be patient!
Σελίδα 67 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his droop'd head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won.
Σελίδα 57 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Σελίδα 18 - Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'tis only noble to be good; Kind hearts are more than coronets, and simple faith than Norman blood.
Σελίδα 51 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet.
Σελίδα 159 - THE harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts that once beat high for praise, Now feel that pulse no more...
Σελίδα 82 - Had thrilled my guileless Genevieve — The music and the doleful tale, The rich and balmy eve ; And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, An undistinguishable throng ; And gentle wishes long subdued, Subdued and cherished long ! She wept with pity and delight. She blushed with love and virgin shame ; And like the murmur of a dream I heard her breathe my name.
Σελίδα 156 - The dust, like smoke from the cannon's mouth, Or the trail of a comet, sweeping faster and faster, Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster. The heart of the steed and the heart of the master Were beating like prisoners...
Σελίδα 15 - Stormed at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well; Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred.
Σελίδα 161 - I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied; Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide, And now I am come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine ; There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.