Favourite English poems and poets1870 - 672 pages |
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Page ix
... Twas when the Seas . PAGE • 250 253 255 IZAAK WALTON . — 1593-1683 . THOMAS TICKELL . - 1686-1740 . The Angler's Wish 195 EARL OF ROSCOMMON . - 1633- Ode on the Death of Addison . 258 Colin and Lucy . 201 1684 . WILLIAM SOMERVILLE ...
... Twas when the Seas . PAGE • 250 253 255 IZAAK WALTON . — 1593-1683 . THOMAS TICKELL . - 1686-1740 . The Angler's Wish 195 EARL OF ROSCOMMON . - 1633- Ode on the Death of Addison . 258 Colin and Lucy . 201 1684 . WILLIAM SOMERVILLE ...
Page xv
... Twas built with turrets on a rising ground His youthful face grew more serenely sweet . The setting sun adorned the coast . Taught the doubtful battle where to rage Page • • 171 172 . 173 • 174 175 176 · . 177 182 184 187 191 . 193 ...
... Twas built with turrets on a rising ground His youthful face grew more serenely sweet . The setting sun adorned the coast . Taught the doubtful battle where to rage Page • • 171 172 . 173 • 174 175 176 · . 177 182 184 187 191 . 193 ...
Page 158
... rigorous laws impose ; A mighty tyrant she ! Long , alas ! should I have been Under that iron - sceptred queen , Had not Rebecca set me free . When fair Rebecca set me free , ' Twas then. 158 COWLEY . 1618-67 FAVOURITE ENGLISH POEMS .
... rigorous laws impose ; A mighty tyrant she ! Long , alas ! should I have been Under that iron - sceptred queen , Had not Rebecca set me free . When fair Rebecca set me free , ' Twas then. 158 COWLEY . 1618-67 FAVOURITE ENGLISH POEMS .
Page 159
English poems. When fair Rebecca set me free , ' Twas then a golden time with me . But soon those pleasures fled ; For the gracious princess died In her youth and beauty's pride , And Judith reign'd in her stead . One month , three days ...
English poems. When fair Rebecca set me free , ' Twas then a golden time with me . But soon those pleasures fled ; For the gracious princess died In her youth and beauty's pride , And Judith reign'd in her stead . One month , three days ...
Page 186
... be meet ! But ' twas beyond a mortal's share To wander solitary there : Two paradises are in one , To live in paradise alone . How well the skilful gard'ner drew Of flowers and herbs 186 MARVEL . 1620-78 . FAVOURITE ENGLISH POEMS .
... be meet ! But ' twas beyond a mortal's share To wander solitary there : Two paradises are in one , To live in paradise alone . How well the skilful gard'ner drew Of flowers and herbs 186 MARVEL . 1620-78 . FAVOURITE ENGLISH POEMS .
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Common terms and phrases
beauty became birds BIRKET FOSTER born breast breath bright close dead dear death delight died doth earth educated English eyes face fair fall fear field flowers GEORGE give glory grace grave green hand happy hath head hear heart heaven hill hope hour Italy JOHN keep King lady land leave light live look Lord lost mind morn nature never night o'er once pain pass play pleasure poem poet poor praise pride queen rest rise rose round shade shepherd sing sleep smile song soon soul sound spring sweet tears Tell thee thine things THOMAS thou thought took turn voice wander waves wild wind young youth
Popular passages
Page 318 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay. Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made : But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied.
Page 307 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his fav'rite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn:' THE EPITAPH Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.
Page 304 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er...
Page 582 - And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the Presence in the room he said, " What writest thou ?" The Vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, " The names of those who love the Lord." " And is mine one ? " said Abou. " Nay, not so,
Page 70 - FEAR no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
Page 419 - 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...
Page 301 - Await alike th' inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Page 299 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Page 494 - Are those her ribs through which the Sun, Did peer, as through a grate ? And is that Woman all her crew ? Is that a DEATH ? and are there two ? Is DEATH that woman's mate ? Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold : Her skin was as white as leprosy, The Night-Mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold. The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice ; " The game is done ! I've won ! I've won ! " Quoth she, and whistles thrice.
Page 552 - Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy Soul's immensity ; Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind, — Mighty Prophet ! Seer blest ! On whom those truths do rest, Which we are toiling all our lives to find, In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave ; Thou, over whom thy Immortality Broods like the Day, a Master o'er a Slave, A Presence which is not to be put by ;...