The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language |
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Page 9
... thee , And , thou away , the very birds are mute ; Or if they sing , ' t is with so dull a cheer , That leaves look pale , dreading the winter's near . W. Shakespeare WH XII A CONSOLATION HEN in disgrace with fortune and Book First.
... thee , And , thou away , the very birds are mute ; Or if they sing , ' t is with so dull a cheer , That leaves look pale , dreading the winter's near . W. Shakespeare WH XII A CONSOLATION HEN in disgrace with fortune and Book First.
Page 56
... pale - eyed priest from the prophetic cell . The lonely mountains o'er And the resounding shore A voice of weeping heard , and loud lament ; From haunted spring and dale Edged with poplar pale The parting Genius is with sighing sent ...
... pale - eyed priest from the prophetic cell . The lonely mountains o'er And the resounding shore A voice of weeping heard , and loud lament ; From haunted spring and dale Edged with poplar pale The parting Genius is with sighing sent ...
Page 57
... pale Troop to the infernal jail , Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave ; And the yellow - skirted fays Fly after the night - steeds , leaving their moon - loved mazę But see , the Virgin blest Hath laid her Babe Book Second 51.
... pale Troop to the infernal jail , Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave ; And the yellow - skirted fays Fly after the night - steeds , leaving their moon - loved mazę But see , the Virgin blest Hath laid her Babe Book Second 51.
Page 70
... pale jessamine , The white pink , and the pansy freak'd with jet , The glowing violet , The musk - rose , and the well - attired woodbine , With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head , And every flower that sad embroidery wears : Bid ...
... pale jessamine , The white pink , and the pansy freak'd with jet , The glowing violet , The musk - rose , and the well - attired woodbine , With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head , And every flower that sad embroidery wears : Bid ...
Page 73
... pale captives , creep to death . The garlands wither on your brow ; Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; Upon Death's purple altar now See where the victor - victim bleeds : Your heads must come To the cold tomb ; Only the actions of ...
... pale captives , creep to death . The garlands wither on your brow ; Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; Upon Death's purple altar now See where the victor - victim bleeds : Your heads must come To the cold tomb ; Only the actions of ...
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Common terms and phrases
adieu Love Arethuse beauty behold beneath birds blest bonnie bower breast breath bright Brignall brow cheek chidden clouds County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dream earth ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA eyes fair Fancy fear flowers frae gentle glory Gray green happy hast hath Hazeldean hear heard heart heaven Heigh hills Kirconnell kiss ladies leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Byron love's lover Lycidas lyre maid mind morn mountains Muse ne'er never night nonny Nymph o'er P. B. Shelley pale passion Pindar pleasure poems poet Poetry Rosaline rose round Rule Britannia seem'd shade Shakespeare shore sigh sight sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star stream sweet tears thee There's thine thou art thought tree voice waly waly waves weep wild winds wings Wordsworth Yarrow youth
Popular passages
Page 22 - 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 174 - Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. Th...
Page 76 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere: A lily of a day Is fairer far in May; Although it fall and die that night, It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see, And in short measures life may perfect be.
Page 21 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted...
Page 353 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce. My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!
Page 356 - THE world is too much with us: late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.
Page 6 - Under the Greenwood Tree Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i...
Page 66 - Bitter constraint and sad occasion dear Compels me to disturb your season due; For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer. Who would not sing for Lycidas?
Page 91 - Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired ; Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die, that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee ; How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous, sweet, and fair.
Page 192 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea I am lord of the fowl and the brute. 0 Solitude ! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms Than reign in this horrible place.