What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Alfred Tennyson Ambrose Philips Anon beauty Ben Jonson beneath bird bonnie breath bright busk canst clouds dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dream earth English English Poetry eyes fair fame fancy fear flowers glory golden grace grave gray green grief hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven Henry Vaughan honour hope hour John Milton King light lines live look Lord Lycidas mind morn mourn Muse ne'er never night numbers o'er once pale peace Percy Bysshe Shelley poem poet poetry praise pride rose Samuel Taylor Coleridge shade shine sigh sight sing sleep smile song SONNET sorrow soul spirit spring stars sweet tears tell thee thine thou art thought trees twa brothers twa sisters verse voice weep wild William Shakespeare William Wordsworth wind wings woods Yarrow youth
Page 89 - She was pinched, and pulled, she said; And he, by friar's lantern led, Tells how the drudging goblin sweat, 105 To earn his cream-bowl duly set, When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn, That ten day-labourers could not end; Then lies him down the lubbar-fiend,
Page 23 - 10 A cap of flowers, and a kirtle, Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle ; A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair-lined slippers for the cold, 15 With buckles of the purest gold ; A belt of straw and ivy-buds, With coral clasps and amber studs
Page 87 - dimple sleek : 30 Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter, holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go On the light fantastic toe; And in thy right hand lead with thee 35 The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty; And, if I give thee honour due, Mirth, admit me of thy crew, To live with her, and live with
Page 368 - Dear, tell them that if eyes were made for seeing, Then Beauty is its own excuse for being : Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose ! I never thought to ask, I never knew ; But, in my simple ignorance, suppose '5 The self-same Power that brought me there brought you.
Page 195 - TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY. Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower, Thou's met me in an evil hour ; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem : To spare thee now is past my power, 5 Thou bonnie gem. Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, The bonnie lark, companion meet! Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet
Page 312 - THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS. Oft in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me : The smiles, the tears 5 Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone, Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken!
Page 255 - Half-hidden from the eye ! —Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; 10 But she is in her grave, and oh ! The difference to me ! William Wordsworth.
Page 262 - THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB. The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, J That host with their banners
Page 86 - 1° But come, thou Goddess fair and free, In heaven yclept Euphrosyne, And by men, heart-easing Mirth; Whom lovely Venus, at a birth, With two sister Graces more, 15 To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore : Or whether (as some sager sing) The frolic wind that breathes the spring, Zephyr, with Aurora playing, As he met her once a-maying,
Page 154 - Thou' art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell; 10 And poppy' or charms can make us sleep as well, And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally; And death shall be no more ; Death, thou shalt die. John Donne.