The Annual Anthology, Volumen2Biggs and Company, 1800 |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 24
Página 27
... feeling fear'd , E'en when I met disdain's cold eye , E'en when I cruel language heard . I've seen my friend , my earliest friend , Refuse my tale of woe to hear ; Yet still unwilling to offend , All my remembrance was - A TEAR . And I ...
... feeling fear'd , E'en when I met disdain's cold eye , E'en when I cruel language heard . I've seen my friend , my earliest friend , Refuse my tale of woe to hear ; Yet still unwilling to offend , All my remembrance was - A TEAR . And I ...
Página 30
... feels his marrow spoiling his best coat- Who swells with calorique as if a Prester Had leavened every limb with poison - yeast- Lend me thine eagle just to flap his wings , And fan me , and I will build temples to thee , And turn true ...
... feels his marrow spoiling his best coat- Who swells with calorique as if a Prester Had leavened every limb with poison - yeast- Lend me thine eagle just to flap his wings , And fan me , and I will build temples to thee , And turn true ...
Página 51
... feels , To hear the village bells responsive peals ; With grateful heart , and eyes suffus'd in tears , She views the thousand forms that nature wears , The laughing morn with orient colours glow , The sun's last blushes tinge the ...
... feels , To hear the village bells responsive peals ; With grateful heart , and eyes suffus'd in tears , She views the thousand forms that nature wears , The laughing morn with orient colours glow , The sun's last blushes tinge the ...
Página 57
... art amongst us still , But the Life and the Feeling are gone .. The Iroquois will learn That thou hast ceas'd from war , " Twill be a joy like victory , For thou wert the scourge of their race . Brother , we sing thee the song of death , ...
... art amongst us still , But the Life and the Feeling are gone .. The Iroquois will learn That thou hast ceas'd from war , " Twill be a joy like victory , For thou wert the scourge of their race . Brother , we sing thee the song of death , ...
Página 69
... feel thy bosom prest Against my highly - beating breast : Methinks my lips with rapture dwell On thy ripe lips nectareous swell , And now delirious transports dart Thro ' pulse and nerve , thro ' brain and heart , And now exanimate I ...
... feel thy bosom prest Against my highly - beating breast : Methinks my lips with rapture dwell On thy ripe lips nectareous swell , And now delirious transports dart Thro ' pulse and nerve , thro ' brain and heart , And now exanimate I ...
Contenido
74 | |
83 | |
90 | |
97 | |
101 | |
103 | |
110 | |
127 | |
152 | |
153 | |
154 | |
155 | |
198 | |
211 | |
217 | |
223 | |
230 | |
236 | |
243 | |
254 | |
264 | |
272 | |
287 | |
293 | |
Términos y frases comunes
beauty Beelzebub behold Beneath bosom bower breast bright brow busy busy Bee CHARLES LLOYD cheek child clouds cold Cossack cried Crocodile dark dear death delight dream dwell E'en ECLOGUE fair fear feel fire fled flowers gale gentle GEORGE GOODWIN grave green billows Gualberto Halloo hast hath Hatto hear heard heart Heaven hill holy hour house of pride Iceburgs ISAAC King laughing Lewti light limbs lov'd maid MARGARET mark'd mind morn Muse Musquito Nature's never night o'er once pale poor praise pride quoth ROBERT SOUTHEY rose round scene Siberia sigh sleep smile song SONNET sorrow soul spirit stood stream sweet tale tears tell tempest thee thine Thou art thou busy busy thou wert thought thro TRAVELLER twas Twill vale vex'd viperous Race wandering ween whilst wild wind wings winter WOMAN youth
Pasajes populares
Página 36 - twas a famous victory! "My father lived at Blenheim then, Yon little stream hard by; They burnt his dwelling to the ground, And he was forced to fly ; So with his wife and child he fled, Nor had he where to rest his head.
Página 261 - And in at the windows, and in at the door, And through the walls helter-skelter they pour, And down from the ceiling, and up through the floor, From the right and the left, from behind and before, From within and without, from above and below, And all at once to the Bishop they go.
Página 34 - IT was a summer evening, Old Kaspar's work was done, And he before his cottage door Was sitting in the sun, And by him sported on the green His little grandchild Wilhelmine.
Página 142 - With sad yet patient soul, through evil and pain And strange calamity ! Ah ! slowly sink Behind the western ridge, thou glorious sun ! Shine in the slant beams, of the sinking orb, Ye purple heath-flowers! richlier burn, ye clouds ! Live in the yellow light, ye distant groves ! And kindle, thou blue ocean !L_So my Friend Struck with deep joy may stand, as I have stood.
Página 35 - Which he beside the rivulet In playing there had found; He came to ask what he had found That was so large and smooth and round. 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 143 - My gentle-hearted Charles ! when the last rook Beat its straight path along the dusky air Homewards, I blest it...
Página 35 - twas all about,' Young Peterkin, he cries; And little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting eyes; 'Now tell us all about the war, And what they fought each other for.
Página 143 - Was richly tinged, and a deep radiance lay Full on the ancient ivy, which usurps Those fronting elms, and now, with blackest mass Makes their dark branches gleam a lighter hue Through the late twilight: and though now the bat Wheels silent by, and not a swallow twitters, Yet still the solitary humble bee Sings in the bean-flower! Henceforth I shall know That Nature ne'er deserts the wise and pure...
Página 140 - WELL, they are gone, and here must I remain — This Lime-tree Bower my Prison ! I have lost Beauties and Feelings, such as would have been Most sweet to my remembrance even when Age Had...
Página 259 - So then to his palace returned he, And he sate down to supper merrily, And he slept that night like an innocent man, But bishop Hatto never slept again. In the morning as he entered the hall, Where his picture hung against the wall, A sweat like death all over him came, For the rats had eaten it out of the frame. As he look'd, there came a man from his farm. He had a countenance white with alarm, My lord, I opened your granaries this morn, And the rats had eaten all your corn.