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A Calendar of Verse: With an Introduction (Classic Reprint)
Anteprima non disponibile - 2018
Art thou beams beauty birds blessed bliss Book of Airs breath bright buds Carlisle wall charm clouds Coleridge County Guy cowslips dark dead dear death deep delight divine doth dream earth eternal eyes Faerie Faerie Queene fair on Carlisle fancy fear flowers GEORGE SAINTSBURY glorious glory gold golden grace green grief happy hath hear heart heaven heigh-ho hope kiss leaves light live lord lute Lycidas Merchant of Venice moon morn mortal mountains never night o'er oxlips pain Paradise Lost pleasure poet poetry rest Revolt of Islam rose saw him die shade Shepheards Calender sigh sing sleep smile soft song SONNET sorrow soul spirit spring stars summer sun shines fair sweet tears thee thine things Thou art thou hast thoughts trees Twelfth Night unto violets wake waves weary ween weep wind wings winter youth
Pagina 28 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it.
Pagina 30 - There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distil it out. For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers, Which is both healthful and good husbandry: Besides, they are our outward consciences, And preachers to us all, admonishing That we should dress us fairly for our end.
Pagina 18 - When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glist'ring with dew; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers ; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild...
Pagina 4 - Proud Maisie is in the wood, Walking so early; Sweet Robin sits on the bush, Singing so rarely. '"Tell me, thou bonny bird. When shall I marry me?' 'When six braw gentlemen Kirkward shall carry ye.' '"Who makes the bridal bed, Birdie, say truly?' — 'The grey-headed sexton, That delves the grave duly. "The glow-worm o'er grave and stone Shall light thee steady; The owl from the steeple sing, 'Welcome, proud lady.
Pagina 17 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But in embalmed darkness guess each sweet...
Pagina 30 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music, too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue...
Pagina 23 - All this long eve, so balmy and serene, Have I been gazing on the western sky, And its peculiar tint of yellow green : And still I gaze — and with how blank an eye ! And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars, That give away their motion to the stars...
Pagina 12 - Star-inwrought! Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day; Kiss her until she be wearied out, Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land, Touching all with thine opiate wand— Come, long-sought!