Autres éditions - Tout afficher
AE FOND KISS auld auld lang syne baith beauty birds blest blow bonnie bosom bower braes of Yarrow breast breath bride bright Brignal brow Busk ye canst County Guy dance dear death deep delight dost doth dream earth eyes face fair fear flowers frae Francis Mahony glory gone grave green happy hath hear heard heart heaven Johnnie Cope kiss lass leaves light live Lord Byron Love's lover maid maiden Mary Matthew Prior maun morning mountains ne'er never night o'er P. B. Shelley pale river Lee Robert Burns Samian wine shine shore sigh sing Sir Walter Scott sleep smiles soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star sweet tears tell thee There's thine thou art thought twas voice waves weary weel weep wild William Blake winds wings winsome marrow Wordsworth
Page 71 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Page 126 - Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face: Flowers laugh before thee on their beds, And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.
Page 23 - Hark, they whisper ; angels say, " Sister spirit, come away ! " What is this absorbs me quite, Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my...
Page 99 - God ! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn ; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea ; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Page 106 - THE SOLITARY REAPER. BEHOLD her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass ! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass ! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen ! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Page 203 - I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams ; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Page 32 - How sleep the brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung, By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there!
Page 109 - Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail : And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reach'd the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean : And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war!
Page 187 - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee!
Page 60 - Solitude ! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face ? Better dwell in the midst of alarms Than reign in this horrible place. 1 am out of humanity's reach, I must finish my journey alone, Never hear the sweet music of speech, I start at the sound of my own. . The beasts, that roam over the plain, My form with indifference see ; They are so unacquainted with man, Their tameness is shocking to me.