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" I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket... "
Favourite English poems and poets - Página 417
por English poems - 1870 - 672 páginas
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Beauties of the British Poets, with a Few Introd. Observations

George Croly (Rev., ed) - 1854
...other groan, Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre thin, and dies ; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow...wild ; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine ; Fast fading violets covered up in leaves ; And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full...
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Chambers's Pocket Miscellany, Volumen3

1854
...weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan ; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale,...blown, Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. 1 cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the houghs, But, in embalmed...
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Chambers's Pocket Miscellany, Volúmenes5-6

1854
...and dies ; Where hut to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs, Where beauty eannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new love pine at them beyond...blown, Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. 1 cannot see what flowers are at my feot, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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The rhyme and reason of country life, or, Selections from fields old and new

1854 - 428 páginas
...thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of poesy, Though the dull train perplexes and retards ; Already with thee tender is...Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I can not see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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The Rhyme and Reason of Country Life, Or, Selections from Fields Old and New

Susan Fenimore Cooper - 1855 - 428 páginas
...thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of poesy, Though the dull train perplexes and retards ; Already with thee tender is...Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I can not see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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Recollections of a Literary Life

Mary Russell Mitford - 1855 - 558 páginas
...thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull train perplexes and retards: Already with thee ! tender...Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways, I can not see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense bangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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Poetry: selected for the use of schools and families by A. Bowman

Anne Bowman - 1856 - 292 páginas
...retards : Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the queen moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry fays ; But here there is...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. v. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs ; But, in...
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Recollections of a Literary Life, Or, Books, Places, and People, Volumen2

Mary Russell Mitford - 1857
...thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull train perplexes and retards : Already with thee ! tender...what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense nangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows...
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The Poets of the Nineteenth Century

Robert Aris Willmott, Evert Augustus Duyckinck - 1858 - 397 páginas
...mouth ! Already with thee! tender is the night. And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. 1 cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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The Poets of the Nineteenth Century

Evert Augustus Duyckinck - 1858 - 397 páginas
...is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fay.- ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...and winding mossy ways. I cannot see what flowers arc at my foot, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each...
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