The Novels and Tales of Robert Louis Stevenson: A child's garden of verses. Underwoods. BalladsScribner's, 1895 |
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Página 44
... behold the embers flee Ahout the firelit hearth ; and see Our faces painted as we pass , Like pictures , on the window - glass . Must we to bed indeed ? Well then , Let us arise and go like men , And face with an undaunted tread The ...
... behold the embers flee Ahout the firelit hearth ; and see Our faces painted as we pass , Like pictures , on the window - glass . Must we to bed indeed ? Well then , Let us arise and go like men , And face with an undaunted tread The ...
Página 84
... Behold the gorgeous East was there ! Be this a fable ; and behold Me in the parlour as of old , And Minnie just above me set In the quaint Indian cabinet ! Smiling and kind , you grace a shelf Too high for me to reach myself . Reach ...
... Behold the gorgeous East was there ! Be this a fable ; and behold Me in the parlour as of old , And Minnie just above me set In the quaint Indian cabinet ! Smiling and kind , you grace a shelf Too high for me to reach myself . Reach ...
Página 111
... behold Surf and great mountains and loud river - bars , And from the shore hear inland voices call . Strange is the seaman's heart ; he hopes , he fears ; Draws closer and sweeps wider from that coast ; Last , his rent sail refits , and ...
... behold Surf and great mountains and loud river - bars , And from the shore hear inland voices call . Strange is the seaman's heart ; he hopes , he fears ; Draws closer and sweeps wider from that coast ; Last , his rent sail refits , and ...
Página 113
... Still with grey hair we stumble on , Till , behold , the vision gone ! Where hath fleeting beauty led ? To the doorway of the dead . Life is over , life was gay : We have come the primrose way . XII TO MRS . WILL . H. LOW EVEN in 113.
... Still with grey hair we stumble on , Till , behold , the vision gone ! Where hath fleeting beauty led ? To the doorway of the dead . Life is over , life was gay : We have come the primrose way . XII TO MRS . WILL . H. LOW EVEN in 113.
Página 123
... Behold ! each greatly breathes ; each tastes a joy Unknown before , in dying ; for each knows A hero dies with him - though unfulfilled , Yet conquering truly and not dies in vain . - So is pain cheered , death comforted ; the house Of ...
... Behold ! each greatly breathes ; each tastes a joy Unknown before , in dying ; for each knows A hero dies with him - though unfulfilled , Yet conquering truly and not dies in vain . - So is pain cheered , death comforted ; the house Of ...
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Términos y frases comunes
aito ants go marching auld awake beggar-wife behold birds bitter virgin blow blue boat braw breath bright CAMISARDS child clan dead dear death deid door dream drum eyes face fairy fear feast fire flowers forest frae friends gangrel garden glaur golden green hand happy hear heard heart heather hill honour island ither Kaiulani kava king land land of Nod look maid maun morning mother mountain müne was shinin night nursie palace plain play puir rain rankit river rose sailing scart seen Immortal shining ship shore silent sing SKERRYVORE sleep slumber smile SONG OF RAHÉRO soul sound stars Taheia Tahiti Taiárapu Támatéa tapu Tevas thee there's things thou tongue trees Vaiau VAILIMA verse voice W. E. HENLEY wander warl weel Whan whaur wind winter wood word yore
Pasajes populares
Página 25 - The world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.
Página 200 - Let the blow fall soon or late, Let what will be o'er me; Give the face of earth around And the road before me. Wealth I seek not, hope nor love, Nor a friend to know me; All I seek, the heaven above And the road below me.
Página 129 - REQUIEM UNDER the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me : Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
Página 105 - ... leaping sun, with glancing rain. Here shall the wizard moon ascend The heavens, in the crimson end Of day's declining splendour; here The army of the stars appear. The neighbour hollows dry or wet, Spring shall with tender flowers beset; And oft the morning muser see Larks rising from the broomy lea, And every fairy wheel and thread Of cobweb dew-bediamonded. When daisies go, shall winter time Silver the simple grass with rime; Autumnal frosts enchant the pool And make the cart-ruts beautiful;...
Página 8 - FOREIGN LANDS UP into the cherry tree Who should climb but little me? I held the trunk with both my hands And looked abroad on foreign lands. I saw the next door garden lie, Adorned with flowers, before my eye, And many pleasant places more That I had never seen before.
Página 216 - BRIGHT is the ring of words When the right man rings them, Fair the fall of songs When the singer sings them. Still they are carolled and said — On wings they are carried — After the singer is dead And the maker buried.
Página 31 - THE SUN'S TRAVELS. THE sun is not a-bed, when I At night upon my pillow lie; Still round the earth his way he takes, And morning after morning makes. While here at home, in shining day, We round the sunny garden play, Each little Indian sleepy-head Is being kissed and put to bed.
Página 18 - Afar into the land of Nod. AH by myself I have to go, With none to tell me what to do — All alone beside the streams And up the mountain-sides of dreams. The strangest things are there for me, Both things to eat and things to see, And many frightening sights abroad Till morning in the land of Nod.
Página 19 - I can see. He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head ; And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed. The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow — Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow ; For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball, And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all. He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play, And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way. He stays so close beside...
Página 262 - SING me a song of a lad that is gone Say, could that lad be I? Merry of soul he sailed on a day Over the sea to Skye.