First (Second) poetry book, selected and arranged by C. Geikie, Volumen1John Cunningham Geikie 1878 |
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Resultados 1-5 de 11
Página 118
... door ! You yet may spy the fawn1 at play , The hare upon the green ; But the sweet face of Lucy Grey Will never more be seen . " To - night will be a stormy night ; You to the town must go , And take a lantern , child , to light Your ...
... door ! You yet may spy the fawn1 at play , The hare upon the green ; But the sweet face of Lucy Grey Will never more be seen . " To - night will be a stormy night ; You to the town must go , And take a lantern , child , to light Your ...
Página 119
... door . They wept - and , turning homeward , cried , " In heaven we all shall meet ; " —When in the snow the mother spied The print of Lucy's feet . Then downwards from the steep hill's edge They tracked the footmarks small , And through ...
... door . They wept - and , turning homeward , cried , " In heaven we all shall meet ; " —When in the snow the mother spied The print of Lucy's feet . Then downwards from the steep hill's edge They tracked the footmarks small , And through ...
Página 130
... door on its hinges , so he on his bed Turns his sides , and his shoulders , and his heavy head . " A little more sleep , and a little more slumber ! " Thus he wastes half his days , and his hours without number : And when he gets up ...
... door on its hinges , so he on his bed Turns his sides , and his shoulders , and his heavy head . " A little more sleep , and a little more slumber ! " Thus he wastes half his days , and his hours without number : And when he gets up ...
Página 133
... - 16 - THE BEGGAR BOY . WHEN the wind blows loud and fearful , And the rain is pouring fast , And the cottage matron careful , Shuts her door against the blast ; When lone mothers , as they hearken , Think of FIRST POETRY BOOK . 133.
... - 16 - THE BEGGAR BOY . WHEN the wind blows loud and fearful , And the rain is pouring fast , And the cottage matron careful , Shuts her door against the blast ; When lone mothers , as they hearken , Think of FIRST POETRY BOOK . 133.
Página 134
... door , Through the splashing in the gutters , When the wind has lulled its roar . Little children playing gladly , In the parlour bright and warm , Look out kindly , look out sadly , On the beggar in the storm . Speak ye softly to each ...
... door , Through the splashing in the gutters , When the wind has lulled its roar . Little children playing gladly , In the parlour bright and warm , Look out kindly , look out sadly , On the beggar in the storm . Speak ye softly to each ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Amy Robsart Baltic Sea beneath billow Birkenhead Bob-o-link bright Caldon-Low CASABIANCA chee cheerful child cried Cuckoo Cumnor Hall dark dead didst thou doth ECHOING GREEN eyes fair fairy flax fatal bonds Father William fear feasts of love Fifine flowers gentle green happy night Hark ye hath hear the hour heard heart Helvellyn hill hurrah hyaena Israel slumbers Jack Jack hare jingle laugh little bird little Maid lonely look Lord love good-morrow mercy and thy merry mooly cow morning mother ne'er o'er play porringer praise pray Robert of Lincoln Robin round Sennacherib shepherd sing skies sleep snow Soldier song sorrow spank Spink Spring stars stood storm summer sunny brow sweet tears tell thee There's thy mercy trees Twas voice watch while Israel watchman numbers waves wild wind wing winter young
Pasajes populares
Página 141 - SEVEN. -A SIMPLE child That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage Girl: She was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad ; Her eyes were fair, and very fair; •*—Her beauty made me glad. 22 " Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?" " How many ? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.
Página 215 - Old Kaspar took it from the boy, Who stood expectant by; And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh, ' 'Tis some poor fellow's skull,' said he, 'Who fell in the great victory.
Página 188 - Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
Página 142 - Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell, And two arc gone to sea; " Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother; And, in the churchyard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother.
Página 142 - My stockings there I often knit, My kerchief there I hem ; And there upon the ground I sit — I sit and sing to them. "And often, after sunset, sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there. " The first that died was little Jane ; In bed she moaning lay Till God released her of her pain, And then she went away.
Página 218 - But from the mountain's grassy side A guiltless feast I bring ; A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied, And water from the spring. " Then, Pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego; All earth-born cares are wrong : Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long.
Página 175 - THE boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but he had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm, — A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though childlike form.
Página 175 - say, father, say If yet my task is done ?" He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son. " Speak, father !" once again he cried, " If I may yet be gone ! And" — but the booming shots replied — And fast the flames rolled on.
Página 151 - You are old, Father William,' the young man cried, ' And pleasures with youth pass away, And yet you lament not the days that are gone : Now tell me the reason, I pray ? '
Página 211 - It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter To bear him company. Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May. The skipper he stood beside the helm, His pipe was in his mouth, And he watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now West, now South. Then up and spake an old...