The Novels and Tales of Robert Louis Stevenson: A child's garden of verses. Underwoods. BalladsScribner's, 1895 |
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Página 41
... my steps on silver sod ; Thick blows my frosty breath abroad ; And tree and house , and hill and lake , Are frosted like a wedding - cake . XXXIX THE HAYLOFT HROUGH all the pleasant meadow - side 41 XXXVIII WINTER-TIME.
... my steps on silver sod ; Thick blows my frosty breath abroad ; And tree and house , and hill and lake , Are frosted like a wedding - cake . XXXIX THE HAYLOFT HROUGH all the pleasant meadow - side 41 XXXVIII WINTER-TIME.
Página 45
... breath of the Bogie in my hair ; And all round the candle the crooked shadows come , And go marching along up the stair . The shadow of the balusters , the shadow of the lamp , The shadow of the child that goes to bed - All the wicked ...
... breath of the Bogie in my hair ; And all round the candle the crooked shadows come , And go marching along up the stair . The shadow of the balusters , the shadow of the lamp , The shadow of the child that goes to bed - All the wicked ...
Página 124
... breath of talk ? Lo , how these fair immaculate women walk Behind their jocund maker ; and we see Slighted De Mauves , and that far different she , Gressie , the trivial sphynx ; and to our feast Daisy and Barb and Chancellor ( she not ...
... breath of talk ? Lo , how these fair immaculate women walk Behind their jocund maker ; and we see Slighted De Mauves , and that far different she , Gressie , the trivial sphynx ; and to our feast Daisy and Barb and Chancellor ( she not ...
Página 131
... breathing fife , Nor rumour of the world of life , Nor confidences low and dear , Shall strike the meditative ear . Aloof , unhelpful , and unkind , The prisoners of the iron mind , Where nothing speaks except the hell The unfraternal ...
... breathing fife , Nor rumour of the world of life , Nor confidences low and dear , Shall strike the meditative ear . Aloof , unhelpful , and unkind , The prisoners of the iron mind , Where nothing speaks except the hell The unfraternal ...
Página 133
... still Here in your fortress on the hill , With placid face , with tranquil breath , The unsought volunteers of death , Our cheerful General on high With careless looks may pass you by . XXIV OT yet , my soul , these friendly fields 133.
... still Here in your fortress on the hill , With placid face , with tranquil breath , The unsought volunteers of death , Our cheerful General on high With careless looks may pass you by . XXIV OT yet , my soul , these friendly fields 133.
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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.