The Children's Garland from the Best PoetsMacmillan and Company, Limited, 1871 - 344 páginas |
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Página ix
... morning star , day's harbinger Now the hungry lion roars . • ' Now , woman , why without your veil ? ' 30 118 341 178 23 100 2 2 296 O Mary , go and call the cattle home O listen , listen , ladies gay O say what is that thing called ...
... morning star , day's harbinger Now the hungry lion roars . • ' Now , woman , why without your veil ? ' 30 118 341 178 23 100 2 2 296 O Mary , go and call the cattle home O listen , listen , ladies gay O say what is that thing called ...
Página 2
... MORNING Now the bright morning star , day's harbinger , Comes dancing from the east , and leads with her The flow'ry May , who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip , and the pale primrose . Hail , bounteous May , that doth ...
... MORNING Now the bright morning star , day's harbinger , Comes dancing from the east , and leads with her The flow'ry May , who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip , and the pale primrose . Hail , bounteous May , that doth ...
Página 8
... morning bright and fair , Eddying round and round they sink Softly , slowly one might think From the motions that are made , Every little leaf conveyed Sylph or Fairy hither tending , To this lower world descending , Each invisible and ...
... morning bright and fair , Eddying round and round they sink Softly , slowly one might think From the motions that are made , Every little leaf conveyed Sylph or Fairy hither tending , To this lower world descending , Each invisible and ...
Página 18
... morning dew , Nor ear heard huntsman's hallo ! Old Tiney , surliest of his kind , Who , nurs'd with tender care , And to domestic bounds confined , Was still a wild Jack - hare . Though duly from my hand he took His pittance every night ...
... morning dew , Nor ear heard huntsman's hallo ! Old Tiney , surliest of his kind , Who , nurs'd with tender care , And to domestic bounds confined , Was still a wild Jack - hare . Though duly from my hand he took His pittance every night ...
Página 31
... The fairest of flowers adorning the bowers , And every meadow's brow ; So that I say , no courtier may Compare with them who clothe in grey , And follow the useful plough . They rise with the morning lark , And labour till Garland 31.
... The fairest of flowers adorning the bowers , And every meadow's brow ; So that I say , no courtier may Compare with them who clothe in grey , And follow the useful plough . They rise with the morning lark , And labour till Garland 31.
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Términos y frases comunes
a-begging Abbot bell bird bishop bishop of Hereford blow bower brave bright cheer child cold COVENTRY PATMORE cried Crocodile dark dead dear door Dora doth eyes fair fair lady fast father fear flowers gallant gallant story galloped Gilpin gold green grew hand Hark hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill horse Inchcape Inchcape Rock John John Barleycorn king lady land light Little John Little white Lily live Lochinvar look look'd Lord Lord Randal loud maid merry moon morning ne'er never Nevermore night o'er Old Ballad old courtier poison'd poor pray quoth Robin Hood rose round S. T. Coleridge shepherd sing smile song soon soul sound steed stood storm stream striking clocks sweet tell thee thou thought took trees Twas unto wild Wildgrave wind wings word young
Pasajes populares
Página 155 - TIGER! Tiger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?
Página 197 - Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, — "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!
Página 195 - Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and. curious volume of forgotten lore — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. " "Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more.
Página 55 - Out of the sea came he ! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon — The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon.
Página 263 - Her waggon spokes made of long spinners' legs, The cover of the wings of grasshoppers, The traces of the smallest spider's web, The collars of the moonshine's watery beams...
Página 212 - You haste away so soon: As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing. We die, As your hours do, and dry Away Like to the Summer's rain; Or as the pearls of morning's dew, Ne'er to be found again.
Página 199 - But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore, What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore.
Página 21 - I made a garland for her head, And bracelets too, and fragrant zone ; She look'd at me as she did love, And made sweet moan. She found me roots of relish sweet, And honey wild, and manna dew ; And sure in language strange she said, I love thee true.
Página 328 - And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail, And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances uplifted, the trumpet unblown.
Página 200 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore!