A Poetry Book of Modern Poets: Consisting of Songs & Sonnets, Odes & Lyrics, Selected and Arranged, with Notes, from the Works of the Modern English and American Poets, Dating from the Middle of the Eighteenth Century to the Present Time |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 25
Page 17
... cold Blossoms and leaves instead of mould ? Blossoms which were the joys that fell , And leaves , the hopes that yet remain . Forget the dead , the past ? Oh yet There are ghosts that may take revenge for it ! Memories that make the ...
... cold Blossoms and leaves instead of mould ? Blossoms which were the joys that fell , And leaves , the hopes that yet remain . Forget the dead , the past ? Oh yet There are ghosts that may take revenge for it ! Memories that make the ...
Page 41
... cold north's unhallowed ground , Because the wretched man himself had slain , His love was such a grievous pain . And there is one whom I five years have known ; He dwells alone Upon Helvellyn's side : He loved — the pretty Barbara died ...
... cold north's unhallowed ground , Because the wretched man himself had slain , His love was such a grievous pain . And there is one whom I five years have known ; He dwells alone Upon Helvellyn's side : He loved — the pretty Barbara died ...
Page 44
... cold , and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony . Some might lament that I were cold , As I when this sweet day is gone , Which my lost heart , too soon grown old , Insults with this untimely moan . They might ...
... cold , and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony . Some might lament that I were cold , As I when this sweet day is gone , Which my lost heart , too soon grown old , Insults with this untimely moan . They might ...
Page 52
... On my lips and eyelids pale . My cheek is cold and white , alas ! My heart beats loud and fast : Oh ! press it close to thine again , Where it will break at last . P. B. Shelley . A NIGHT - SONG OF LOVE . Now sleeps the P B Shelley.
... On my lips and eyelids pale . My cheek is cold and white , alas ! My heart beats loud and fast : Oh ! press it close to thine again , Where it will break at last . P. B. Shelley . A NIGHT - SONG OF LOVE . Now sleeps the P B Shelley.
Page 59
... cold , and stiff , and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy . Hurrah ! hurrah ! a single field hath turned the chance of war , Hurrah ! hurrah ! for Ivry , and King Henry of Navarre . Oh ! how our hearts were beating , when at the ...
... cold , and stiff , and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy . Hurrah ! hurrah ! a single field hath turned the chance of war , Hurrah ! hurrah ! for Ivry , and King Henry of Navarre . Oh ! how our hearts were beating , when at the ...
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Other editions - View all
A Poetry-Book of Modern Poets: Consisting of Songs and Sonnets, Odes and ... Amelia Blanford Edwards No preview available - 2017 |
A Poetry-Book of Modern Poets: Consisting of Songs and Sonnets, Odes and ... Amelia Blanford Edwards No preview available - 2018 |
Common terms and phrases
A. C. Swinburne Airly Beacon AUTUMN BARBARA FRITCHIE BELFRY OF BRUGES bells beneath bird blow boys come home breast breath bright CLEON clouds cowslips Cusha D. G. Rossetti daffodil dance dark dear death deep doth dream earth England's dead eyes fair flowers glory golden green hair hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Itylus kisses leaves light lips living Lochinvar look Lord Lord Byron loud maiden Minstrels and maids Modern Poets moon morn never night o'er OZYMANDIAS P. B. Shelley Persephone poem rain river rolling rose round S. T. Coleridge Samian wine shade shadow sigh silent sing sleep slumber snow song sorrow soul sound stars stream summer sweet tears Tennyson Terpander thee thine things thou art thought tree uppe Verse voice waves weep wild wind wings Wordsworth
Popular passages
Page 76 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He...
Page 140 - 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 ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms, and winding mossy ways.
Page 143 - TO A WATERFOWL. WHITHER, 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 227 - Hear the sledges with the bells — Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Page 218 - 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 62 - 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 140 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Page 148 - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays; Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, •An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
Page 256 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember, The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away!
Page 66 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.