England and WalesHoughton, Mifflin, 1876 - English poetry |
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Page 1
... a light That told of sunny days , And blossoms , and blue sky ; For I was ever
first Of all the grove to hear The soft voice under ground Of the warm - working
spring ; And ere my brethren stirred Their sheathéd buds , the kine , And the kine '
s ...
... a light That told of sunny days , And blossoms , and blue sky ; For I was ever
first Of all the grove to hear The soft voice under ground Of the warm - working
spring ; And ere my brethren stirred Their sheathéd buds , the kine , And the kine '
s ...
Page 7
... And he that had not a bonnie boy His ain servant he was . But up then spake a
little page , Before the peep of dawn , — “ O , waken ye , waken ye , my good lord
, For Percy ' s hard at hand . ” “ Ye lie , ye lie , ye liar loud ! Sae loud I hear ye lie ...
... And he that had not a bonnie boy His ain servant he was . But up then spake a
little page , Before the peep of dawn , — “ O , waken ye , waken ye , my good lord
, For Percy ' s hard at hand . ” “ Ye lie , ye lie , ye liar loud ! Sae loud I hear ye lie ...
Page 10
Charmed with the sight , “ The world , ” I cried , “ Shall hear of this thy deed ; My
dog shall mortify the pride Of man ' s superior breed : “ But chief myself I will
enjoin , Awake at duty ' s call , To show a love as prompt as thine To Him who
gives ...
Charmed with the sight , “ The world , ” I cried , “ Shall hear of this thy deed ; My
dog shall mortify the pride Of man ' s superior breed : “ But chief myself I will
enjoin , Awake at duty ' s call , To show a love as prompt as thine To Him who
gives ...
Page 13
T NEVER hear the sound of thy glad bells , 1 Oxford ! and chime harmonious , but
I say ( Sighing to think how time has worn away ) , “ Some spirit speaks in the
sweet tone that swells , Heard after years of absence , from the vale Where ...
T NEVER hear the sound of thy glad bells , 1 Oxford ! and chime harmonious , but
I say ( Sighing to think how time has worn away ) , “ Some spirit speaks in the
sweet tone that swells , Heard after years of absence , from the vale Where ...
Page 25
... Just like this Smith of Maudlin . ” Ah ! then a dreadful hush will come , And all I
hear will be the fly Buzzing impatient round the wall , And on the sheet where I
must lie ; Next day a jostling of feet , — The men who bring the coffin in : “ This is
...
... Just like this Smith of Maudlin . ” Ah ! then a dreadful hush will come , And all I
hear will be the fly Buzzing impatient round the wall , And on the sheet where I
must lie ; Next day a jostling of feet , — The men who bring the coffin in : “ This is
...
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Contents
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Common terms and phrases
ancient banks beauty beneath breast breath bright church clear crown dark dead dear death deep doth earth erth fair fame fields fire flow flowers glory grave gray green hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hold hope king land leaves light living lone look lord mighty mind morning mountains never night o'er o’er once pass past peace poor pride proud rest rise river Robin Hood rock round scene shade shore side sigh silent silver sing sleep smiling song soul sound spirit spring stand stars stone stream summer Surrey sweet tell Thames thee thine thou thought tide till tower trees turn vale voice walk walls wander waters wave wild wind woods
Popular passages
Page 175 - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of the nnhonored dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate...
Page 173 - 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. Can storied urn, or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honor's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death...
Page 193 - For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art, Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart • Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book, Those Delphic lines with deep impression took, Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, Dost make us marble, with too much conceiving ; And, so sepulchred in such pomp dost lie, That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.
Page 138 - There is a gentle Nymph not far from hence, That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream : Sabrina is her name : a virgin pure ; Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine, That had the sceptre from his father Brute. She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit Of her enraged stepdame, Guendolen, 830 Commended her fair innocence to the flood That stayed her flight with his cross-flowing course. The water-nymphs, that in the bottom played, Held up their pearled wrists, and took her in, Bearing...
Page 46 - And crushed and torn beneath his claws the princely hunters lay. Ho ! strike the flagstaff deep, Sir Knight : ho ! scatter flowers, fair maids : Ho! gunners, fire a loud salute: ho! gallants, draw your blades : Thou sun, shine on her joyously; ye breezes, waft her wide; Our glorious SEMPER EADEM, the banner of our pride.
Page 48 - Southward from Surrey's pleasant hills flew those bright couriers forth ; High on bleak Hampstead's swarthy moor they started for the north ; And on, and on, without a pause, untired they bounded still: All night from tower to tower they sprang; they sprang from hill to hill...
Page 251 - Where the lamps quiver So far in the river, With many a light From window and casement, From garret to basement, She stood, with amazement, Houseless by night. The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver; But not the dark arch, Or the black flowing river : Mad from life's history, Glad to death's mystery Swift to be hurl'd— Anywhere, anywhere Out of the world!
Page 174 - Can storied urn, or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can honor's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death * Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire ; Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayed. Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre...
Page 191 - (she said), ' whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year : Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal boy ! This can unlock the gates of joy; Of horror that, and thrilling fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.
Page 249 - Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing,— Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; ' Not of the stains of her— All that remains of her Now, is pure womanly.
Bibliographic information
| Title | England and Wales Volume 3 of Poems of Places, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow |
| Compiled by | Henry Wadsworth Longfellow |
| Publisher | Houghton, Mifflin, 1876 |
| Original from | Harvard University |
| Digitized | 29 Feb 2008 |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |