The Hundred Best Poems (lyrical) in the English Language |
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Page 1
... hast thou the same reason still To doat upon me ever . 1609 Edition . MATTHEW ARNOLD . The Forsaken Merman . COME , dear children , let us away ; Down and away below . Now my brothers call from the bay ; Now the great winds shorewards ...
... hast thou the same reason still To doat upon me ever . 1609 Edition . MATTHEW ARNOLD . The Forsaken Merman . COME , dear children , let us away ; Down and away below . Now my brothers call from the bay ; Now the great winds shorewards ...
Page 26
... hast now put on , To make believe , that Thou art gone ? I see these locks in silvery slips , This drooping gait , this altered size : But springtide blossoms on thy lips , And tears take sunshine from thine eyes ! 23 . SAMUEL TAYLOR ...
... hast now put on , To make believe , that Thou art gone ? I see these locks in silvery slips , This drooping gait , this altered size : But springtide blossoms on thy lips , And tears take sunshine from thine eyes ! 23 . SAMUEL TAYLOR ...
Page 42
... hast command of every part , To live and die for thee . Grosart's Text . 35 . THOMAS HOOD . The Death Bed . WE watch'd her breathing through the night , Her breathing soft and low , As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and ...
... hast command of every part , To live and die for thee . Grosart's Text . 35 . THOMAS HOOD . The Death Bed . WE watch'd her breathing through the night , Her breathing soft and low , As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and ...
Page 50
... hast never known , The 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 , and spectre - thin , and dies ; Where but to think ...
... hast never known , The 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 , and spectre - thin , and dies ; Where but to think ...
Page 53
... hast not thy bliss , For ever wilt thou love , and she be fair ! 3 . Ah , happy , happy boughs ! that cannot shed Your leaves , nor ever bid the Spring adieu ; And , happy melodist , unwearied , For ever piping songs for ever new ; More ...
... hast not thy bliss , For ever wilt thou love , and she be fair ! 3 . Ah , happy , happy boughs ! that cannot shed Your leaves , nor ever bid the Spring adieu ; And , happy melodist , unwearied , For ever piping songs for ever new ; More ...
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The Hundred Best Poems (Lyrical) In the English Language (Classic Reprint) Adam L. Gowans No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
AE fond kiss ALEXANDER POPE Arethuse beautiful ANNABEL LEE beneath birds blest bonie breast breath bright bright eyes brow canst child cloud dark darling buds dead death deep dost doth dream earth Edition eyes fair fear flowers glory golden slumber grave green happy hast hath haunt hear heard heart heaven hill holy John John Anderson kisses LADY NAIRNE land leal leaves light live look loud luve Lycidas Melancholy moan moon morn mountains Muse ne'er never night o'er old familiar faces Orpheus pale peace Pippa Passes praise rose Samian wine SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE shade shepherds shine shore sigh silent sing sleep smiles soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star stream summer's lease sweet tears Text Thammuz thee thine thou art thought trees unseen voice waves weep white-thorn wild winds wings youth
Popular passages
Page 49 - Homer ruled as his demesne; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Page 89 - Through the dear might of Him that walked the waves, Where other groves, and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love.
Page 70 - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance, or breathed spell, Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Page 50 - O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...
Page 107 - I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams ; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noon-day dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Page 77 - Then to the well-trod stage anon, If Jonson's learned sock be on, Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild. And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out 140 With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running,' Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony ; That Orpheus...
Page 125 - O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; 10 But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!
Page 76 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn That ten day-labourers could not end ; Then lies him down, the lubber fiend, no And, stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength, And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Page 96 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Page 53 - Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?