Selections from the British Poets, Volume 2Harper & brothers, 1840 - English poetry |
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Page vi
... Scenes of Infancy " JAMES MONTGOMERY . Columbus Home The Grave Hannah The Daisy · • · . 117 118 . 119 119 . € 120 · 123 • 124 • 126 127 131 132 Stanzas JOANNA BAILLIE . Page The Kitten 134 REGINALD HEBER vi CONTENTS .
... Scenes of Infancy " JAMES MONTGOMERY . Columbus Home The Grave Hannah The Daisy · • · . 117 118 . 119 119 . € 120 · 123 • 124 • 126 127 131 132 Stanzas JOANNA BAILLIE . Page The Kitten 134 REGINALD HEBER vi CONTENTS .
Page 14
... scene remote , Where the gray linnets carol from the hill . Oh , let them ne'er , with artificial note , To please a tyrant , strain the little bill , But sing what Heaven inspires , and wander where they will . Liberal , not lavish ...
... scene remote , Where the gray linnets carol from the hill . Oh , let them ne'er , with artificial note , To please a tyrant , strain the little bill , But sing what Heaven inspires , and wander where they will . Liberal , not lavish ...
Page 18
... scene resign For aught the huntsman's puny craft supplies ? Ah ! no he better knows great 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 ...
... scene resign For aught the huntsman's puny craft supplies ? Ah ! no he better knows great 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 ...
Page 19
... scenes no more return ? Is yonder wave the sun's eternal bed ? Soon shall the orient with new lustre burn , And Spring shall soon her vital influence shed , Again attune the grove , again adorn the mead . " Shall I be left forgotten in ...
... scenes no more return ? Is yonder wave the sun's eternal bed ? Soon shall the orient with new lustre burn , And Spring shall soon her vital influence shed , Again attune the grove , again adorn the mead . " Shall I be left forgotten in ...
Page 22
... scenes of morn , Where the fresh flowers in living lustre blow , Where thousand pearls the dewy lawns adorn , A thousand notes of joy in every breeze are borne . But who the melodies of morn can tell ? The wild brook babbling down the ...
... scenes of morn , Where the fresh flowers in living lustre blow , Where thousand pearls the dewy lawns adorn , A thousand notes of joy in every breeze are borne . But who the melodies of morn can tell ? The wild brook babbling down the ...
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Common terms and phrases
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 Elderslie ev'ry fair fame fancy fled flowers fond frae gaze gentle grave green happy harp hath hear heart Heaven hill hope hour John Gilpin JOSEPH ATKINSON Kilmeny land light living Lochiel lonely look Lord lyre Marmion mirth morn mountain murmur muse Nature's ne'er never night nymph 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 166 - O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly, at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet or in shroud we wound him, But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
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 179 - But oh, that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover ! A savage place ! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover...
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 198 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, - alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe And burning with high hope shall moulder cold and low.
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 33 - Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, The love he bore to learning was in fault; The village all declared how much he knew, 'Twas certain he could write and cipher too; Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage, And e'en the story ran that he could gauge...
Page 167 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him ! But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring, And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
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 155 - O attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, Beauty is truth, truth beauty,— that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.