English poetry, for use in the schools of the Collegiate institution, Liverpool [ed. by W. J. Conybeare].1844 |
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Αποτελέσματα 1 - 5 από τα 5.
Σελίδα 11
... Blount ; " thou ' dst best , And listen to our lord's behest . " - With kindling brow Lord Marmion said , — " This instant be our band arrayed ; The river must be quickly crossed , That we may join Lord Surrey's host . If fight King ...
... Blount ; " thou ' dst best , And listen to our lord's behest . " - With kindling brow Lord Marmion said , — " This instant be our band arrayed ; The river must be quickly crossed , That we may join Lord Surrey's host . If fight King ...
Σελίδα 12
... : O ! think of Marmion in thy prayer ! - Thou wilt not ? —well , -no less my care Shall , watchful , for thy weal prepare.- You , Blount and Eustace , are her guard , With ten picked archers of my train ; With England 12.
... : O ! think of Marmion in thy prayer ! - Thou wilt not ? —well , -no less my care Shall , watchful , for thy weal prepare.- You , Blount and Eustace , are her guard , With ten picked archers of my train ; With England 12.
Σελίδα 14
... Blount and Fitz - Eustace rested still With Lady Clare upon the hill ; On which ( for far the day was spent , ) The western sunbeams now were bent . The cry they heard , its meaning knew , Could plain their distant comrades view : Sadly ...
... Blount and Fitz - Eustace rested still With Lady Clare upon the hill ; On which ( for far the day was spent , ) The western sunbeams now were bent . The cry they heard , its meaning knew , Could plain their distant comrades view : Sadly ...
Σελίδα 16
... Blount the view could bear : 66 By heaven , and all its saints ! I swear , I will not see it lost ! Fitz - Eustace , you with Lady Clare May bid your beads , and patter prayer , I gallop to the host ! " And to the fray he rode amain ...
... Blount the view could bear : 66 By heaven , and all its saints ! I swear , I will not see it lost ! Fitz - Eustace , you with Lady Clare May bid your beads , and patter prayer , I gallop to the host ! " And to the fray he rode amain ...
Σελίδα 17
... Blount his armour did unlace , And , gazing on his ghastly face , Said " By Saint George , he's gone ! That spear - wound has our master sped , And , see the deep cut on his head ! 66 Good night to Marmion ! " - Unnurtured Blount ! -thy ...
... Blount his armour did unlace , And , gazing on his ghastly face , Said " By Saint George , he's gone ! That spear - wound has our master sped , And , see the deep cut on his head ! 66 Good night to Marmion ! " - Unnurtured Blount ! -thy ...
Συχνά εμφανιζόμενοι όροι και φράσεις
amain arms array Arth battle beneath BISHOP KEN Blount Branksome Branksome Hall brave breath bright brow cease from troubling chase cheer Clare Clusium crest cried dark dead deep DIES iræ dread dust earth England's Eustace eyes fair Father fierce fight fire Fitz-Eustace Flodden foes gallant glory grave hall hand Hark hast hath head hear heard heart heaven heavenly host helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre hill Holy Horatius horse host Hubert HYMN Janiculum King Lars Porsena Lartius light little prince lonely look Lord Marmion loud Mayenne Moncontour morn mountain ne'er Netherby never night o'er plain Praise rein rest rill rode rose Saint SCOTT SHAKSPERE shore shout sigh sing Skiddaw slain sleep smile song soul sound spears spirit squire stag steed tear thee thine Thou art gone Tiber toil tower voice wake weep wicked cease young Lochinvar
Δημοφιλή αποσπάσματα
Σελίδα 30 - Changed his hand, and check'd his pride. He chose a mournful muse, Soft pity to infuse: He sung Darius great and good! ~By too severe a fate, Fallen! fallen! fallen! fallen! Fallen from his high estate, And weltering in his blood!
Σελίδα 6 - That day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay? How shall he meet that dreadful day? When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, The flaming heavens together roll, When louder yet, and yet more dread, Swells the high trump that wakes the dead ! O, on that day, that wrathful day, When man to judgment wakes from clay, Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay, Though heaven and earth shall pass away!
Σελίδα 57 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How jocund did they drive their team afield! How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke...
Σελίδα 59 - E'en in our Ashes live their wonted Fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed Swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
Σελίδα 1 - The way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old; His withered cheek, and tresses gray, Seemed to have known a better day; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by an orphan boy.
Σελίδα 70 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
Σελίδα 70 - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head; And we far away on the billow! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him; But little he'll reck; if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
Σελίδα 57 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood; Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. Th...
Σελίδα 61 - On a rock, whose haughty brow, Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the Poet stood ; (Loose his beard, and hoary hair Streamed, like a meteor, to the troubled air) And with a Master's hand, and Prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
Σελίδα 6 - HERON'S SONG. O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best, And save his good broadsword he weapons had none ; He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.