The Sibyl: Or, New Oracles from the PoetsCaroline Howard Gilman Wiley and Putnam, 1848 - 313 páginas |
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Página 50
... blue , He would not have thought in a thing so weak Such a fiery spirit grew . PRAED Troubadour . 14. Who has not looked upon her brow , Has never dreamt of perfect bliss , But once to see her is to know What beauty - what perfection is ...
... blue , He would not have thought in a thing so weak Such a fiery spirit grew . PRAED Troubadour . 14. Who has not looked upon her brow , Has never dreamt of perfect bliss , But once to see her is to know What beauty - what perfection is ...
Página 55
... darker hue , Bewitchingly o'erarching Twa laughing e'en o ' bonnie blue . BURNS . 37. The joy of youth and health her eye displays , And ease of heart her every look conveys . CRABBE . 38. Scratching could not make it worse , an it 55.
... darker hue , Bewitchingly o'erarching Twa laughing e'en o ' bonnie blue . BURNS . 37. The joy of youth and health her eye displays , And ease of heart her every look conveys . CRABBE . 38. Scratching could not make it worse , an it 55.
Página 61
... blue eyes Steal o'er the heart like sunshine o'er the skies . Poems by Amelia . 60. Locks like the raven's wing , dark languid eyes , And young and beautiful , beyond compare , An airy flitting bird , aye soft and meek , Modest and ...
... blue eyes Steal o'er the heart like sunshine o'er the skies . Poems by Amelia . 60. Locks like the raven's wing , dark languid eyes , And young and beautiful , beyond compare , An airy flitting bird , aye soft and meek , Modest and ...
Página 62
... blue spot in the sky Is her clear and loving eye . TAYLOR - Edwin the Fair . 66. Her hands are marble , and her looks unchangeable As are the wintry stars , in their pure brightness . LANDOR - Ines de Castro . 67. He who beholds her ...
... blue spot in the sky Is her clear and loving eye . TAYLOR - Edwin the Fair . 66. Her hands are marble , and her looks unchangeable As are the wintry stars , in their pure brightness . LANDOR - Ines de Castro . 67. He who beholds her ...
Página 63
... blue , and softly bright , Made up of languish and of light . And her neck , except where the locks of brown Like a sweet summer mist fall droopingly down , Is as pure and white as the snow , ere the earth Has sullied the hue of its ...
... blue , and softly bright , Made up of languish and of light . And her neck , except where the locks of brown Like a sweet summer mist fall droopingly down , Is as pure and white as the snow , ere the earth Has sullied the hue of its ...
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Términos y frases comunes
ALLAN CUNNINGHAM BARRETT-The BARRY CORNWALL beauty BEN JONSON beneath bird bloom blossom blue blushing bower breath breeze bright brow BURNS CARLOS WILCOX charm cheek clouds COLERIDGE CRABBE CRABBE-Tales dark deep doth dwell earth ELIZA COOK eyes face FANNY KEMBLE flowers gentle Gentlemen of Verona grace green hair HALLECK happy HARTLEY COLERIDGE hath hear heart heaven HORNE-Orion LADY LADY-LOVE LEIGH HUNT light lily lips look Love's Labor Lost Merchant of Venice merry mind MISS BARRETT morning MOTHERWELL MOULTRIE-The Dream N. P. WILLIS NICOLL night noble o'er OSGOOD passion Poems by Amelia Poets PRAED PRAED-The pure R. H. DANA rose round shade shines sigh sings smile soft song soul spirit Spring star stream Summer sweet TAYLOR-Philip Van Artevelde tender thee thine things thou thought Timon toil trees trembling truth voice walk wave wild wind wings Winter's Tale WORDSWORTH young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 245 - Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company! To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay!
Página 230 - Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
Página 103 - Familiar as his garter: that, when he speaks, The air, a charter'd libertine, is still, And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences...
Página 147 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Página 101 - This should have been a noble creature : he Hath all the energy which would have made A goodly frame of glorious elements, Had they been wisely mingled ; as it is, It is an awful chaos — light and darkness — And mind and dust — and passions and pure thoughts, Mix'd, and contending without end or order, All dormant or destructive...
Página 144 - There stands the messenger of truth : there stands The legate of the skies ! — His theme divine, His office sacred, his credentials clear. By him the violated law speaks out Its thunders ; and by him, in strains as sweet As angels use, the Gospel whispers peace.
Página 94 - Biron they call him ; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal : His eye begets occasion for his wit ; For every object that the one doth catch The other turns to a mirth-moving jest...
Página 251 - I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea.
Página 85 - For calling up that spot of joy. She had A heart . . . how shall I say? . . . too soon made glad, Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er She looked on, and her looks went everywhere. Sir, 'twas all one!
Página 59 - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powdered, still perfumed: Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face; That makes simplicity a grace ; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : Such sweet neglect more taketh me, Than all the adulteries of art ; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.