The Standard authors reader, arranged and annotated by the editor of 'Poetry for the young'. Standard iii, v-vii |
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Results 1-5 of 72
Page 9
... wind in the most natural meanderings , or expand into a glassy lake ; the sequestered pool , reflecting the quiver- ing trees , with the yellow leaf sleeping on its bosom , and the trout roaming fearlessly about its limpid waters ...
... wind in the most natural meanderings , or expand into a glassy lake ; the sequestered pool , reflecting the quiver- ing trees , with the yellow leaf sleeping on its bosom , and the trout roaming fearlessly about its limpid waters ...
Page 17
... windy weather with heavy showers , they dislike ; and on such days withdraw , and are scarce ever seen . There is a circumstance respecting the colour of swifts , which seems not to be unworthy our attention . When they arrive in the ...
... windy weather with heavy showers , they dislike ; and on such days withdraw , and are scarce ever seen . There is a circumstance respecting the colour of swifts , which seems not to be unworthy our attention . When they arrive in the ...
Page 20
... winds for leagues between the gentle hills , unthought of , until its edge is approached ; and then suddenly , through the boughs of the firs , the eye perceives , beneath , the green and gliding stream , and the broad walls of ...
... winds for leagues between the gentle hills , unthought of , until its edge is approached ; and then suddenly , through the boughs of the firs , the eye perceives , beneath , the green and gliding stream , and the broad walls of ...
Page 23
... wind was in its nest , The tempest in its home . The whispering waves were half asleep , The clouds were gone to play , And on the bosom of the deep The smile of Heaven lay . It seemed as if the hour were one Sent from beyond the skies ...
... wind was in its nest , The tempest in its home . The whispering waves were half asleep , The clouds were gone to play , And on the bosom of the deep The smile of Heaven lay . It seemed as if the hour were one Sent from beyond the skies ...
Page 25
... wind crept by , Like an unwelcome thought , Which from the mind's too faithful eye Blots one dear image out . Though thou art ever fair and kind , The forests ever green , Less oft is peace in Shelley's mind , Than calm in waters seen ...
... wind crept by , Like an unwelcome thought , Which from the mind's too faithful eye Blots one dear image out . Though thou art ever fair and kind , The forests ever green , Less oft is peace in Shelley's mind , Than calm in waters seen ...
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Common terms and phrases
Adour appear Arth banks beach beautiful bells beneath Benedicite birds Bracebridge breath Cæsar church clouds colour Crito dark death deep distance E. A. FREEMAN earth Enceladus England English eyes fall feet fire flowers foam French Geysir GILBERT WHITE green hand hath hear heard heart heaven Henry of Navarre hills honour horse Horseshoe Fall hour island king Lake land Latin ledge light look Lord LORD DUFFERIN miles morning mountains nest never night noble Normandy o'er once passed Pilgrim's Progress Pisc precipice prince rising river rock rolling round scarcely seemed seen ship shore side sight silent soul sound Spitzbergen stands stream swallow sweet thee thou towers town trees turned valley Varaville Viat village voice walls WASHINGTON IRVING waves Wetterhorn wild William wind wonderful word
Popular passages
Page 107 - Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above, Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity ! 0 dread and silent mount ! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought : entranced in prayer, I worshipped the Invisible alone.
Page 276 - A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest ; And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a guiding star, Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.
Page 63 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Page 319 - O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity : these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what ! weep you, when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here, Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.
Page 316 - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Caesar.
Page 134 - Now the wild white horses play, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. Children dear, let us away! This way, this way! Call her once before you go— Call once yet! In a voice that she will know:
Page 19 - tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopped and played : Their thoughts I cannot measure : — But the least motion which they made, It seemed a thrill of pleasure. The budding twigs spread out their fan, To catch the breezy air ; And I must think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there.
Page 110 - Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? — God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer ! and let the ice-plains echo, God...
Page 49 - Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers; And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cider-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Page 198 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear : Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest. Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. Th...