Odes and Sonnets, Illustrated |
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Page 3
... Kirke White . 17 Milton 20 - TO EVENING Collins ON SOLITUDE Pope 2232 26 HOW DARKLY O'ER Southey STATELY YON VESSEL LIKE AS A SHIP Spenser 20 20 25 27 28 30 TO PEACE Couper 33 THE SPRING Fanshawe 32 SWEET IS THE ROSE Spenser 33 AMONGST ...
... Kirke White . 17 Milton 20 - TO EVENING Collins ON SOLITUDE Pope 2232 26 HOW DARKLY O'ER Southey STATELY YON VESSEL LIKE AS A SHIP Spenser 20 20 25 27 28 30 TO PEACE Couper 33 THE SPRING Fanshawe 32 SWEET IS THE ROSE Spenser 33 AMONGST ...
Page 4
... Kirke White 99 Collins 40 Earl of Surrey 41 DEAR CHORISTER TO A BROOK Drummond 42 Southey " " WINSLADE , THY BEECH ... Kirke White Gray 54 Kirke White 55 Southey 56 Spenser 35 Charlotte Smith 58 + CONTENTS VI SUBJECTS . FROM YOU I HAVE BEEN.
... Kirke White 99 Collins 40 Earl of Surrey 41 DEAR CHORISTER TO A BROOK Drummond 42 Southey " " WINSLADE , THY BEECH ... Kirke White Gray 54 Kirke White 55 Southey 56 Spenser 35 Charlotte Smith 58 + CONTENTS VI SUBJECTS . FROM YOU I HAVE BEEN.
Page 20
... KIRKE WHITE . SONNET TO THE NIGHTINGALE . O NIGHTINGALE , that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve , when all the woods are still , Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill , While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May . Thy ...
... KIRKE WHITE . SONNET TO THE NIGHTINGALE . O NIGHTINGALE , that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve , when all the woods are still , Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill , While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May . Thy ...
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... KIRKE WHITE . ODE WRITTEN IN THE YEAR MDCCXLVI . How sleep the brave , who sink to rest , By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring , with dewy fingers cold , Returns to deck their hallow'd mould , She there shall dress a ...
... KIRKE WHITE . ODE WRITTEN IN THE YEAR MDCCXLVI . How sleep the brave , who sink to rest , By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring , with dewy fingers cold , Returns to deck their hallow'd mould , She there shall dress a ...
Page 53
... , shall wane the vital fire , I'll raise my pillow on the desert shore , And lay me down to rest where the wild wave Shall make sweet music o'er my lonely grave . HENRY KIRKE WHITE . 1 ODE . Now the golden Morn aloft Waves her. 333 53.
... , shall wane the vital fire , I'll raise my pillow on the desert shore , And lay me down to rest where the wild wave Shall make sweet music o'er my lonely grave . HENRY KIRKE WHITE . 1 ODE . Now the golden Morn aloft Waves her. 333 53.
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Common terms and phrases
airy BAMPFYLDE beam bids bloom bough bowers breath breeze BRIGHT MORNING STAR buds calm CHARLOTTE SMITH clouds cowslips DAISY dance dear delight dewy dost doth drest DRUMMOND EARL OF SURREY fair flocks flowers fragrant gale give my love gleam gray green grove hail HARVEST MOON hast hath hear heart heaven HENRY KIRKE WHITE HERRICK hills light lone love good-morrow lovers May-pole mead meadows MILTON MOON of harvest morn MOUNTAIN DAISY murmur Muse nature's Neath night NIGHTINGALE ODES AND SONNETS pale peace pensive purple REDBREAST rill RIVER TRENT robe rose round rove rustic shade SHAKSPEARE shrill sigh silent sing SIR PHILIP SIDNEY smile soft song sorrow SOUTHEY Spenser Spring star Stella storm stream Sweet bird TEMPEST thee thine Thou merry month thro THRUSH thy modest trembling vale wake wander warbles Warton waves wild winds wing WINSLADE Winter woods WORDSWORTH
Popular passages
Page 26 - midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or if chill blustering winds, or driving rain, Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut, That from the mountain's side, Views wilds, and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discovered spires, And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil.
Page 18 - FLY, envious Time, till thou run out thy race, Call on the lazy, leaden-stepping hours, Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace, And glut thyself with what thy womb devours, Which is no more than what is false and vain, And merely mortal dross; So little is our loss, So little is thy gain.
Page 26 - Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge, And sheds the freshening dew, and, lovelier still, The pensive pleasures sweet, Prepare thy shadowy car. Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene, Or find some ruin 'midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams.
Page 25 - If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, May hope, chaste eve, to soothe thy modest ear, Like thy own solemn springs, Thy springs, and dying gales...
Page 106 - A gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold; A belt of straw and ivy buds With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Page 12 - The schoolboy, wandering through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts, the new voice of Spring to hear, And imitates thy lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom Thou fliest thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another Spring to hail. Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year ! O, could I fly, I'd fly with thee!
Page 94 - I'll borrow. Wake from thy nest, robin redbreast, Sing birds in every furrow ; And from each hill, let music shrill Give my fair Love good-morrow ! Blackbird and thrush in every bush, Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow ! You pretty elves, amongst yourselves Sing my fair Love good-morrow ; To give my Love good-morrow Sing birds in every furrow ! T.
Page 90 - Sleepless ! and soon the small birds' melodies Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees ; And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry. Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay, And could not win thee, Sleep ! by any stealth : So do not let me wear...
Page 94 - Sweet air, blow soft ; mount, lark, aloft To give my Love good-morrow ! Wings from the wind to please her mind, Notes from the lark I'll borrow : Bird, prune thy wing ! nightingale, sing ! To give my Love good-morrow ! To give my Love good-morrow Notes from them all I'll borrow.
Page 27 - Winter yelling through the troublous air, Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes : So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, Thy gentlest influence own, And love thy favourite name ! ODE TO PEACE.