The Poetical Works of Winthrop Mackworth PraedHenry G. Langley, 1844 - 287 pages |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 32
Page 19
... rose all weeping . " Thou hast lopped , " she said , “ beshrew thine hand ! — The fairest foot in faery land ! " Thou hast an infant in thine home ! Never to her shall reason come , For weeping or for wail , Till she shall ride with a ...
... rose all weeping . " Thou hast lopped , " she said , “ beshrew thine hand ! — The fairest foot in faery land ! " Thou hast an infant in thine home ! Never to her shall reason come , For weeping or for wail , Till she shall ride with a ...
Page 46
... roses or rocks to - night ? " Lurley ! Lurley ! " Words there are none ; but the waves prolong The notes of that mysterious song ] He listens , and listens , and all around Ripple the echoes of that sweet sound- " Lurley ! Lurley ! " No ...
... roses or rocks to - night ? " Lurley ! Lurley ! " Words there are none ; but the waves prolong The notes of that mysterious song ] He listens , and listens , and all around Ripple the echoes of that sweet sound- " Lurley ! Lurley ! " No ...
Page 48
... rose , He woke in wonder from repose , The river was calm as the river could be , And the thrush was awake on the gladsome tree , And there he lay , in a sunny cave , On the margin of the tranquil wave , Half deaf with that infernal din ...
... rose , He woke in wonder from repose , The river was calm as the river could be , And the thrush was awake on the gladsome tree , And there he lay , in a sunny cave , On the margin of the tranquil wave , Half deaf with that infernal din ...
Page 54
... rose was shed , And her quickened pulse began to speak Of human hope and dread ! And soon she grasped the learned lore The old gray pedant taught , And turned from the volume to explore The hidden mine of thought . Alas ! her bliss was ...
... rose was shed , And her quickened pulse began to speak Of human hope and dread ! And soon she grasped the learned lore The old gray pedant taught , And turned from the volume to explore The hidden mine of thought . Alas ! her bliss was ...
Page 58
... was marble stone , And the bridesmaid her hand could hardly hold , Its fingers were so icy cold . Rose Count Otto from the feast , As entered the hall the hoary priest .で A stalwart warrior , well I ween , That hoary 58 PRAED'S POEMS .
... was marble stone , And the bridesmaid her hand could hardly hold , Its fingers were so icy cold . Rose Count Otto from the feast , As entered the hall the hoary priest .で A stalwart warrior , well I ween , That hoary 58 PRAED'S POEMS .
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Abbess abbot Araminta beauty Beneath bliss blue bowers breath bright brow charm cheek clasp Clotilda cold Count Otto courser dance dark Digore dragon dream earth eyes faded fair Fare thee fat friars father fear flings flowers fond frown gazed glance glow gout grew hair half hand hath heard heart heaven hour John Moultrie kiss lady laughed light Lillian lips locks lonely look Lord lover Lurley lute maid maiden minstrel never night Nonny Nonny nought numbers o'er pain pale passion pray prayer quadrille Rhine rose Rossini rove sigh silent sing Sir Harry Sir Isumbras sleep smile song sorrow soul spell steed sweet tail talked tears tell thine thou thought to-day to-night tone tree Troubadour Twas unconscious sleep Vidal voice wake waking eye wander weary ween weep whispered wild wine WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED young youth
Popular passages
Page 213 - If he speaks of a tax or a duty, If he does not look grand on his knees, If he's blind to a landscape of beauty — Hills, valleys, rocks, waters and trees, If he dotes not on desolate towers, If he likes not to hear the blast blow, If he knows not the language of flowers, My own Araminta, say
Page 211 - If he ever drinks port after dinner, If his brow or his breeding is low, If he calls himself 'Thompson' or 'Skinner', My own Araminta, say 'No!
Page 183 - She smiled on many just for fun, — I knew that there was nothing in it; I was the first, — the only one, Her heart had thought of for a minute. I knew it; for she told me so, In phrase which was divinely moulded; She wrote a charming hand, — and oh!
Page 183 - Fly not yet" — upon the river; Some jealousy of some one's heir, Some hopes of dying broken-hearted, A miniature, a lock of hair, The usual vows,- — and then we parted. We parted; months and years...
Page 168 - And warmed himself in court or college, He had not gained an honest friend, And twenty curious scraps of knowledge ; — If he departed as he came, With no new light on love or liquor, — Good sooth, the traveller was to blame, And not the Vicarage, or the Vicar.
Page 180 - Little. Through sunny May, through sultry June, I loved her with a love eternal ; I spoke her praises to the moon, I wrote them to the Sunday Journal...
Page 213 - No!" He must walk like a god of old story, Come down from the home of his rest; He must smile like the sun in his glory, On the buds he loves ever the best ; And, oh ! from its ivory portal, Like music his soft speech must flow ! — If he speak, smile, or walk like a mortal, My own Araminta, say "No!
Page 169 - And sure a righteous zeal inspired The hand and head that penned and planned them, For all who understood, admired, And some who did not understand them.
Page 171 - Alack the change! in vain I look For haunts in which my boyhood trifled,— The level lawn, the trickling brook, The trees I climbed, the beds I rifled...
Page 75 - The cock doth crow ; It is time for the Fisher to rise and go. Fair luck to the Abbot, fair luck to the shrine ! He hath gnawed in twain my choicest line ; Let him swim to the north, let him swim to the south, The Abbot will carry my hook in his mouth...