English Lands, Letters and Kings ...C. Scribner's Sons, 1897 |
Περιεχόμενα
| 138 | |
| 147 | |
| 157 | |
| 163 | |
| 173 | |
| 187 | |
| 193 | |
| 201 | |
| 65 | |
| 77 | |
| 83 | |
| 92 | |
| 103 | |
| 112 | |
| 118 | |
| 125 | |
| 132 | |
| 212 | |
| 223 | |
| 229 | |
| 237 | |
| 249 | |
| 255 | |
| 265 | |
| 277 | |
Άλλες εκδόσεις - Προβολή όλων
English Lands, Letters and Kings: The later Georges to Victoria Donald Grant Mitchell Πλήρης προβολή - 1906 |
English Lands, Letters and Kings: The later Georges to Victoria Donald Grant Mitchell Πλήρης προβολή - 1907 |
Συχνά εμφανιζόμενοι όροι και φράσεις
Abbotsford admired beautiful brilliant British Brougham Byron Campbell chapter charming Childe Harold Coleridge comes count Croker daughter death delight Diary Disraeli early Edinboro Edinburgh Review encounter England English Lands father FRANCIS JEFFREY friends gentleman George George IV give glitter Godwin grace Hazlitt heart Hunt's J. G. Lockhart Jeffrey John Wilson John Wilson Croker kindly King Lady Blessington Lake Landor later Leigh Hunt letters literary living Lockhart London Lord Lord Brougham Lord Byron Macaulay Mackintosh marriage married memory Moore mother mountain never Newstead passion poem poet poetic political pretty Prince Quarterly Queen Quincey Review Robert Southey royal says Shelley Smailholme Tower Southey speech story Sydney Smith talk tell thee things thou tion touch trees Tweed verse voice Walter Scott wife William William Hazlitt witty wonderful Wordsworth writes wrote young
Δημοφιλή αποσπάσματα
Σελίδα 63 - Once again I see These hedgerows, hardly hedgerows, little lines Of sportive wood run wild ; these pastoral farms, Green to the very door ; and wreaths of smoke Sent up in silence from among the trees, With some uncertain notice, as might seem, Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods, Or of some hermit's cave, where by his fire The hermit sits alone.
Σελίδα 231 - Made for our searching : yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon For simple sheep ; and such are daffodils With the green world they live in...
Σελίδα 164 - WHO has not heard of the Vale of Cashmere, With its roses the brightest that earth ever gave, Its temples, and grottos, and fountains as clear As the love-lighted eyes that hang over their wave...
Σελίδα 9 - They say it was a shocking sight after the field was won; for many thousand bodies here lay rotting in the sun; but things like that, you know, must be after a famous victory. Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, and our good Prince Eugene. "Why, 'twas a very wicked thing!" said little Wilhelmine. "Nay... nay... my little girl," quoth he, "it was a famous victory.
Σελίδα 196 - Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his...
Σελίδα 192 - Fair as herself — but the boy gazed on her; And both were young, and one was beautiful; And both were young — yet not alike in youth. As the sweet moon on the horizon's verge, The maid was on the eve of womanhood; The boy had fewer summers, but his heart Had far outgrown his years, and to his eye There was but one beloved face on earth, And that was shining on him...
Σελίδα 152 - Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou ?" The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so," Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerly still ; and said, "I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.
Σελίδα 230 - Its loveliness increases ; it will never Pass into nothingness ; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth...
Σελίδα 173 - O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play ! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.
Σελίδα 212 - I do not believe it beguiling, Because it reminds me of thine; And when winds are at war with the ocean, As the breasts I believed in with me, If their billows excite an emotion It is that they bear me from thee.