A book of English poetry; ed. by T. Shorter1861 |
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Page 5
... So sweetly and so cool . The hawthorn clusters bloom above , The primrose hides below , And on the lonely passer - by A modest glance doth throw ! NICOLL . Thanksgibing for Flowers . O FATHER ! Lord ! The POEMS OF NATURE . 5.
... So sweetly and so cool . The hawthorn clusters bloom above , The primrose hides below , And on the lonely passer - by A modest glance doth throw ! NICOLL . Thanksgibing for Flowers . O FATHER ! Lord ! The POEMS OF NATURE . 5.
Page 6
Thomas Shorter. Thanksgibing for Flowers . O FATHER ! Lord ! The All - beneficent ! I bless thy name , That thou hast mantled the green earth with flowers , Linking our hearts to nature ! By the love Of their wild blossoms , our young ...
Thomas Shorter. Thanksgibing for Flowers . O FATHER ! Lord ! The All - beneficent ! I bless thy name , That thou hast mantled the green earth with flowers , Linking our hearts to nature ! By the love Of their wild blossoms , our young ...
Page 16
... Lord of the woods , the long - surviving oak . Some glossy - leaved , and shining in the sun ; The maple and the beech , of oily nuts Prolific ; and the lime , at dewy eve Diffusing odours ; nor unnoted pass The sycamore , capricious in ...
... Lord of the woods , the long - surviving oak . Some glossy - leaved , and shining in the sun ; The maple and the beech , of oily nuts Prolific ; and the lime , at dewy eve Diffusing odours ; nor unnoted pass The sycamore , capricious in ...
Page 29
... lord of day , before the astonished eyes Opens its bosom - and he seems at last Just sinking - No - a power unfelt before- An impulse indescribable , succeeds ! Onward , entranced , I haste to drink the beams Of the unfading light ...
... lord of day , before the astonished eyes Opens its bosom - and he seems at last Just sinking - No - a power unfelt before- An impulse indescribable , succeeds ! Onward , entranced , I haste to drink the beams Of the unfading light ...
Page 31
... lord of thee , and arbiter of war ; These are thy toys , and , as the snowy flake , They melt into thy yeast of waves , which mar Alike th Armada's pride , or spoils of Trafalgar . Thy shores are empires , changed in all save thee ...
... lord of thee , and arbiter of war ; These are thy toys , and , as the snowy flake , They melt into thy yeast of waves , which mar Alike th Armada's pride , or spoils of Trafalgar . Thy shores are empires , changed in all save thee ...
Common terms and phrases
beauty behold beneath bird blessed blue breast breath breeze bright brow calm canopy of love clouds dark dead dear death deep divine doth dreams Earl Douglas Earl Percy earth eyes fair fear flowers gentle glory glow golden grave green hand hath hear heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre hill holy hour JOANNA BAILLIE land leaf light living lonely look look'd Lord loud lyre mighty Mnemosyne moon morn mountains Nature's ne'er never Nevermore night o'er ocean pass'd peace praise rest rills rise round Samian wine seem'd shade shadow shadows fall SHAKESPEARE shine shore sigh silent sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream summer sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thrush trees Twas voice waves weary wild wind wind-flowers wings woods WORDSWORTH
Popular passages
Page 192 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Page 41 - Is lightened : — that serene and blessed mood, In which the affections gently lead us on, — Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul : While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
Page 135 - Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair, Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.
Page 43 - tis her privilege Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy : for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith...
Page 61 - MAY MORNING. Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
Page 192 - One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne, — Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page 135 - The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!
Page 287 - Even more than when I tripp'd lightly as they ; The innocent brightness of a new-born day Is lovely yet ; The clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality ; Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Page 255 - And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, ) That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot! Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry, "God for Harry! England and Saint George!
Page 35 - And I have loved thee, ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight ; and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear ; For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.