Conversations on Poetry:: Intended for the Amusement and Instruction of Children |
From inside the book
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Page 26
... Helen . " I will repeat my favourite lines , addressed to a Sprig of Heath . " ( Helen repeats . ) " Flower of the waste ! the heath - fowl shuns For thee the brake and tangled wood , - Poems , by a Family Circle . To thy protecting ...
... Helen . " I will repeat my favourite lines , addressed to a Sprig of Heath . " ( Helen repeats . ) " Flower of the waste ! the heath - fowl shuns For thee the brake and tangled wood , - Poems , by a Family Circle . To thy protecting ...
Page 28
... Helen . " The heath - fowl or moor- fowl is a bird peculiar to the British islands , and it is remarkably shy and wild in its disposition , preferring the solitude of the heath - covered mountains to the more verdant valleys that lie be ...
... Helen . " The heath - fowl or moor- fowl is a bird peculiar to the British islands , and it is remarkably shy and wild in its disposition , preferring the solitude of the heath - covered mountains to the more verdant valleys that lie be ...
Page 29
... Helen . " Who does not know that bees fly from flower to flower extracting sweets from every one of them ? and these lines mean that the bees , the busy , busy bees , are particularly fond of heath , because it yields such excel- lent ...
... Helen . " Who does not know that bees fly from flower to flower extracting sweets from every one of them ? and these lines mean that the bees , the busy , busy bees , are particularly fond of heath , because it yields such excel- lent ...
Page 30
... Helen she had care- fully examined line in this poem , every and she was at no loss to answer her father's questions . " In the Heathen mythology , papa , " said she , " Iris is the goddess of the rainbow ; in poetical language , there ...
... Helen she had care- fully examined line in this poem , every and she was at no loss to answer her father's questions . " In the Heathen mythology , papa , " said she , " Iris is the goddess of the rainbow ; in poetical language , there ...
Page 31
... Helen . " I was only just giving papa an ex- planation of the term Iris , and telling him that the rainbow , with all its varie- gated and beautiful colours , is poetically termed the Iris . Do not interrupt us . Have you any more ...
... Helen . " I was only just giving papa an ex- planation of the term Iris , and telling him that the rainbow , with all its varie- gated and beautiful colours , is poetically termed the Iris . Do not interrupt us . Have you any more ...
Common terms and phrases
admire Æneid amuse bard Beaumaris beautiful virgin bees blossoms called charms Clara conversation convey instruction Copper-plates Cowper's dear deck delightful descriptive poetry didactic poetry epic poem epic poetry exclaimed fable fancy Fanny farmer's daughter father favourite flowers fond genius Geysers girl Greeks half bound happiness heard heath-fowl Helen hero Holborn Hill Homer Iliad illustrious imagination invention Iris language lines little Rosina lively lively colours lyre Maria Mary Elliott Mary Hughes Maurice ment metaphor Milton mind morning moun myrtle nature never o'er objects Orpheus papa pastoral poetry peculiar peeps plain Plates pleasures poet poetical composition prose repeat rise rural scene scenery scriptive shepherd simile sister SMALLFIELD smiling snow song species spring steam-vessel style suppose sure sweets tains taphor taste tell thee thing thou tion truth Ulysses understand verse village walk whilst William Darton young
Popular passages
Page 34 - Tis now become a history little known, That once we called the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession ! but the record fair, That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Page 33 - I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. Where once we dwelt our name is heard no more, Children not thine have trod my nursery floor ; And where the gardener Robin, day by day, Drew me to school along the public way, Delighted with my bauble coach, and wrapped In scarlet mantle warm, and velvet capped, Tis now become a history little known, That once we called the pastoral house our own.
Page 95 - To hear the lark begin his flight And singing startle the dull night From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise; Then to come, in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good-morrow Through the sweetbriar, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine...
Page 33 - I heard the bell toll'd' on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? — It was.
Page 127 - Delightful task ! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe th' enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
Page 34 - I would not trust my heart — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. But no...
Page 92 - Where the great Sun begins his state Robed in flames and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight; While the ploughman, near at hand, Whistles o'er the furrowed land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Page 125 - He knew his lord ; he knew, and strove to meet ; In vain he strove to crawl and kiss his feet ; Yet (all he could) his tail, his ears, his eyes, Salute his master, and confess his joys.
Page 27 - ... wood, — To thy protecting shade she runs, Thy tender buds supply her food ; Her young forsake her downy plumes To rest upon thy opening blooms. Flower of the desert though thou art ! The deer that range the mountain free, The graceful doe, the stately hart, Their food and shelter seek from thee ; The bee thy earliest blossom greets, And draws from thee her choicest sweets. Gem of the heath ! whose modest bloom Sheds beauty o'er the lonely moor : Though thou dispense no rich perfume, Nor yet...
Page 124 - Thus, near the gates conferring as they drew, Argus, the dog, his ancient master knew: He not unconscious of the voice and tread, Lifts to the sound his ear, and rears his head; Bred by Ulysses, nourish'd at his board, But, ah!