The Poets of the Nineteenth CenturyRobert Aris Willmott |
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Page 11
... ploughman stalks afield ; and , hark ! Down the rough slope the ponderous waggon rings ; Through rustling corn the hare astonish'd springs ; Slow tolls the village clock the drowsy hour ; The 4 MORNING LANDSCAPE . MORNING LANDSCAPE.
... ploughman stalks afield ; and , hark ! Down the rough slope the ponderous waggon rings ; Through rustling corn the hare astonish'd springs ; Slow tolls the village clock the drowsy hour ; The 4 MORNING LANDSCAPE . MORNING LANDSCAPE.
Page 11
Robert Aris Willmott. Slow tolls the village clock the drowsy hour ; The partridge bursts away on whirring wings ; Deep mourns the turtle in sequester'd bower , And shrill lark carols clear from her aërial tower . CALM AND STORM . OFT ...
Robert Aris Willmott. Slow tolls the village clock the drowsy hour ; The partridge bursts away on whirring wings ; Deep mourns the turtle in sequester'd bower , And shrill lark carols clear from her aërial tower . CALM AND STORM . OFT ...
Page 11
... hours , and bid them move Serene , on silent wing ? " Oft let Remembrance sooth his mind With dreams of former days , When , in the lap of Peace reclin'd , He fram'd his infant lays ; When Fancy rov'd at large , nor Care Nor cold ...
... hours , and bid them move Serene , on silent wing ? " Oft let Remembrance sooth his mind With dreams of former days , When , in the lap of Peace reclin'd , He fram'd his infant lays ; When Fancy rov'd at large , nor Care Nor cold ...
Page 19
... hours , When , playing with thy vesture's tissued flowers , The violet , the pink , and jessamine , I prick'd them into paper with a pin , ( And thou wast happier than myself the while , Would'st softly speak , and stroke my head , and ...
... hours , When , playing with thy vesture's tissued flowers , The violet , the pink , and jessamine , I prick'd them into paper with a pin , ( And thou wast happier than myself the while , Would'st softly speak , and stroke my head , and ...
Page 28
... hours awake ; And tells , that dancing in the beam , The light gnat hovers o'er the stream , The May - fly on the lake ? Or if , by instinct taught to know Approaching dearth of insect food , To isles and willowy aits you go , And ...
... hours awake ; And tells , that dancing in the beam , The light gnat hovers o'er the stream , The May - fly on the lake ? Or if , by instinct taught to know Approaching dearth of insect food , To isles and willowy aits you go , And ...
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Common terms and phrases
art thou ARTEVELDE beam beauty beneath bird blessed BOSCH bosom breast breath breeze bright brow Bruges cheek cloud coursers dark dead dear deep delight dread dream earth EPICURUS face fair father fear flowers gaze gentle gleam glory grave green grey hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill hope hour James Godwin JOANNA BAILLIE Kilmeny Lautaro LEWESDON HILL light Lochiel lonely look look'd lov'd MARY RUSSELL MITFORD MARY TIGHE Medes morning mother murmurs night o'er Orra pride Queen rocks rose round SACK OF BALTIMORE scene seem'd shade shadow shining shore sigh sight silent sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stept stood storm stream sudden fear summer sweet tears thee thine thou thought trees trembling Twas vale voice wave weep wild wind wings youth
Popular passages
Page 137 - 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! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
Page 162 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease, , Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou...
Page 132 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could lie down like a tired child And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear...
Page 180 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below — As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormv winds do blow.
Page 179 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow...
Page 136 - Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sun-burnt mirth ! 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 118 - The last, the sole, the dearest link Between me and the eternal brink, Which bound me to my failing race, Was broken in this fatal place.
Page 204 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him.
Page 115 - A double dungeon wall and wave Have made — and like a living grave Below the surface of the lake The dark vault lies wherein we lay...
Page 172 - Lo !. the death-shot of foemen outspeeding, he rode Companionless, bearing destruction abroad ; But down let him stoop from his havoc on high ! Ah ! home let him speed — for the spoiler is nigh. Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast, Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast ? 'Tis the fire-shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven From his eyrie, that beacons the darkness of heaven. Oh, crested Lochiel ! the peerless in might, Whose banners arise on the battlements...