The poetical reader, with notes and questions by A.W. BuchanAlexander Winton Buchan 1861 |
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Σελίδα 8
... feel the cold sweat stand ; My lips grow dry and tremulous , and my breath Comes feebly up . Oh ! tell me , is this death ? Mother ! your hand- " Here - lay it on my wrist , And place the other thus , beneath my head , And say , sweet ...
... feel the cold sweat stand ; My lips grow dry and tremulous , and my breath Comes feebly up . Oh ! tell me , is this death ? Mother ! your hand- " Here - lay it on my wrist , And place the other thus , beneath my head , And say , sweet ...
Σελίδα 18
... adj . ( L. in , cubo ) . Mar'i - ner , n . ( L. mare ) . " TIS pleasant by the cheerful hearth to hear Of tempests , and the dangers of the deep , And pause at times , and feel that we are 18 SELECTED POETRY . Southey.
... adj . ( L. in , cubo ) . Mar'i - ner , n . ( L. mare ) . " TIS pleasant by the cheerful hearth to hear Of tempests , and the dangers of the deep , And pause at times , and feel that we are 18 SELECTED POETRY . Southey.
Σελίδα 19
Alexander Winton Buchan. And pause at times , and feel that we are safe ; Then listen to the perilous tale again , And with an eager and suspended soul , Woo terror to delight us . But to hear The roaring of the raging elements , — To ...
Alexander Winton Buchan. And pause at times , and feel that we are safe ; Then listen to the perilous tale again , And with an eager and suspended soul , Woo terror to delight us . But to hear The roaring of the raging elements , — To ...
Σελίδα 21
... Name the five senses . 15. How should those feel who possess all their external senses ? 16. How should we ever act towards the blind ? THE WOODCUTTER'S NIGHT SONG . CLARE . Work is the SELECTED POETRY , 21 N P Willis.
... Name the five senses . 15. How should those feel who possess all their external senses ? 16. How should we ever act towards the blind ? THE WOODCUTTER'S NIGHT SONG . CLARE . Work is the SELECTED POETRY , 21 N P Willis.
Σελίδα 32
... feel the loss in the highest degree ? 13. What may he be supposed to think he hears Keeldar say ? 14. By whom was bold Percy Rede mur- dered ? 15. What were among his last words ? 16. What art keeps this affecting story in rememberance ...
... feel the loss in the highest degree ? 13. What may he be supposed to think he hears Keeldar say ? 14. By whom was bold Percy Rede mur- dered ? 15. What were among his last words ? 16. What art keeps this affecting story in rememberance ...
Άλλες εκδόσεις - Προβολή όλων
The poetical reader, with notes and questions by A.W. Buchan Alexander Winton Buchan Πλήρης προβολή - 1859 |
Συχνά εμφανιζόμενοι όροι και φράσεις
ALEXANDER WINTON Andromache beauty beneath bird breast breath bright brothers call'd Canute child clouds cold Colma cottage crown dark dead dear death deep Dismal Swamp dost doth dread earth Edinburgh Edition eternal fair falchion father fear fire flowers Forever-never friends gazed glory green grief hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven hill History Iceni Keeldar king Lausus light live lonely look Lord Mezentius mitherless bairn morning mother N. P. WILLIS ne'er nest never Never-forever night o'er pass'd poet praise pride Professor Queen rest ROBERT BURNS rock round Salgar seem'd silent sing SIR WALTER SCOTT sleep smile song sorrow soul speak stood stream Sugh summer sweet tears tell thee thine THOMAS HOOD thou art thought throne Tidore tree Tuscany Twas University of Edinburgh Vex'd voice weary weep wild wind wing word
Δημοφιλή αποσπάσματα
Σελίδα 74 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain ? What fields, or waves, or mountains ? What shapes of sky or plain ? What love of thine own kind ? what ignorance of pain ? With thy clear, keen joyance Languor cannot be : Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee : Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Σελίδα 49 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, 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...
Σελίδα 27 - Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way?
Σελίδα 92 - The seasons' difference ; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, — This is no flattery : these are counsellors, That feelingly persuade me what I am. Sweet are the uses of adversity ; Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ; And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and...
Σελίδα 72 - Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Σελίδα 96 - How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep ! O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down And steep my senses in forgetfulness...
Σελίδα 91 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
Σελίδα 58 - Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
Σελίδα 59 - Not as a child shall we again behold her ; For when with raptures wild In our embraces we again enfold her, She will not be a child ; But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion, Clothed with celestial grace ; And beautiful with all the soul's expansion Shall we behold her face.
Σελίδα 91 - I have almost forgot the taste of fears : The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek ; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in't : I have supp'd full with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.