Selections from the British Poets, Volume 2Harper & brothers, 1840 - English poetry |
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Page 14
... Nature's charms . They hate the sensual , and scorn the vain , The parasite their influence never warms , Nor him whose sordid soul the love of gold alarms . Though richest hues the peacock's plumes adorn , Yet horror screams from his ...
... Nature's charms . They hate the sensual , and scorn the vain , The parasite their influence never warms , Nor him whose sordid soul the love of gold alarms . Though richest hues the peacock's plumes adorn , Yet horror screams from his ...
Page 15
... Nature to her votary yields ! The warbling woodland , the resounding shore , The pomp of groves , and garniture of fields ; All that the genial ray of morning gilds , And all that echoes to the song of even , All that the mountain's ...
... Nature to her votary yields ! The warbling woodland , the resounding shore , The pomp of groves , and garniture of fields ; All that the genial ray of morning gilds , And all that echoes to the song of even , All that the mountain's ...
Page 18
... Nature's charms to prize . And oft he traced the uplands , to survey , When o'er the sky advanced the kindling dawn , The crimson cloud , blue main , and mountain gray , And lake , dim - gleaming on the smoky lawn : Far to the west the ...
... Nature's charms to prize . And oft he traced the uplands , to survey , When o'er the sky advanced the kindling dawn , The crimson cloud , blue main , and mountain gray , And lake , dim - gleaming on the smoky lawn : Far to the west the ...
Page 20
... Nature's voice , to man alone unjust , Bid him , though doom'd to perish , hope to live ? Is it for this fair Virtue oft must strive With disappointment , penury , and pain ? No Heaven's immortal Spring shall yet arrive , And man's ...
... Nature's voice , to man alone unjust , Bid him , though doom'd to perish , hope to live ? Is it for this fair Virtue oft must strive With disappointment , penury , and pain ? No Heaven's immortal Spring shall yet arrive , And man's ...
Page 35
... nature has its play , The soul adopts , and owns their first - born sway ; Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind , Unenvied , unmolested , unconfined . But the long pomp , the midnight masquerade , With all the freaks of wanton ...
... nature has its play , The soul adopts , and owns their first - born sway ; Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind , Unenvied , unmolested , unconfined . But the long pomp , the midnight masquerade , With all the freaks of wanton ...
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Common terms and phrases
AE fond kiss art thou auld lang syne beauty beneath bless'd bloom bosom bower Branksome Hall breast breath bright brow burst of joy calm charms cheek clouds dark dead dear death deep delight dread dream earth ev'ry fair fame fancy fled flowers fond frae gale gaze gentle grave green happy harp hath hear heart Heaven hill hope hour John Gilpin JOSEPH ATKINSON Kilmeny land light living Lochiel lonely look lyre Marmion mirth morn mountain murmur muse Nature's ne'er never night o'er pass'd peace PIBROCH pleasure pow'r pride rapture rill rose round scene seem'd shade shine shore sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star stream sweet tears thee thine thou art thought Twas vale voice wandering wave weary weep wild wind wings Yarrow youth
Popular passages
Page 154 - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone : Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare ; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Page 152 - 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, and the fruit-tree wild ; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine ; Fast-fading violets cover'd up in leaves ; And mid-May's eldest child The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Page 311 - The floating clouds their state shall lend To her; for her the willow bend; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the Storm Grace that shall mould the Maiden's form By silent sympathy. "The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
Page 153 - What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Page 152 - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee!
Page 32 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.
Page 196 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gather'd then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush!
Page 207 - SHE walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies ; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes : Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Page 110 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha for Scotland's King and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand, or freeman fa'?
Page 318 - Oh, listen ! for the vale profound Is overflowing with the sound. No nightingale did ever chaunt More welcome notes to weary bands Of travellers in some shady haunt Among Arabian sands : —A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard In spring-time from the cuckoo-bird. Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.