The Poetical Common-place Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of Standard and Fugitive Poetry, Including a Few Translations Hitherto Unpublished |
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Page 42
... forms of varying dye , To greet thee as thou passest by ; And bending sip thy ample wave , And in its lucid lapse their bosoms lave . While on thy tranquil breast appears No fretting gale , 42 THE POETICAL To the Wild Brook,
... forms of varying dye , To greet thee as thou passest by ; And bending sip thy ample wave , And in its lucid lapse their bosoms lave . While on thy tranquil breast appears No fretting gale , 42 THE POETICAL To the Wild Brook,
Page 43
... appears No fretting gale , no passing storm , The sun - beam's vivid lustre cheers , And seems thy silvery bed to warm : The thronging birds with amorous play , Sweep with their wings thy glittering way ; And o'er thy banks fond zephyr ...
... appears No fretting gale , no passing storm , The sun - beam's vivid lustre cheers , And seems thy silvery bed to warm : The thronging birds with amorous play , Sweep with their wings thy glittering way ; And o'er thy banks fond zephyr ...
Page 44
... 'st thou repose in hallow'd ground , And wake eternal bliss to share ! ODE ON PITY . ANONYMOUS . How lovely in the arch of heaven Appears yon sinking orb of light , As , darting through the clouds of even , It 44 THE POETICAL Ode on Pity,
... 'st thou repose in hallow'd ground , And wake eternal bliss to share ! ODE ON PITY . ANONYMOUS . How lovely in the arch of heaven Appears yon sinking orb of light , As , darting through the clouds of even , It 44 THE POETICAL Ode on Pity,
Page 52
... appears To play from thoughts above thy years . Thou smil'st as if thy soul were soaring To heaven , and heaven's God adoring ! And who can tell what visions high May bless an infant's sleeping eye ? What brighter throne can brightness ...
... appears To play from thoughts above thy years . Thou smil'st as if thy soul were soaring To heaven , and heaven's God adoring ! And who can tell what visions high May bless an infant's sleeping eye ? What brighter throne can brightness ...
Page 56
... appear , At best , the glitt'ring plagues of men ; Unsought by those that never roam Forgetful of their native home . Let me to summer shades retire , With Meditation and the Muse ! Or , round the social winter fire , The glow of temper ...
... appear , At best , the glitt'ring plagues of men ; Unsought by those that never roam Forgetful of their native home . Let me to summer shades retire , With Meditation and the Muse ! Or , round the social winter fire , The glow of temper ...
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Other editions - View all
The Poetical Commonplace Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of ... C. W. C. No preview available - 2009 |
The Poetical Commonplace Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of ... C. W. C. No preview available - 2009 |
Common terms and phrases
admiring bands ANONYMOUS art thou beam beauty beneath billows black crows blast blest bliss bloom bosom bower breast breath breeze bright charm cheek cherub clouds cold dark dark wave dead dear death delight dream earth ev'ning ev'ry fair fate Fingal flowers fond Gelert gleam gloom glory glow grave green grief grove hail hast hath hear heart Heav'n HENRY KIRKE WHITE hill hour kiss of Morn light lips lonely LORD BYRON lov'd lyre maid moon morn mountain mourn Muse ne'er night o'er pale rapture rill rose round scene seem'd shade sigh silent sleep slumber smile soft song sorrow soul sound star Star of Bethlehem storm strain stream summer sweet swell tear tell tempest thee thine thou thought tomb tree trembling Twas vale voice wake wander wave weep wild wind wing woods youth
Popular passages
Page 53 - 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 187 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Page 270 - When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulder flung, Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known...
Page 247 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee...
Page 235 - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out...
Page 304 - Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.
Page 189 - If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flatt'ry sooth the dull cold ear of Death...
Page 229 - Can I forget the dismal night, that gave My soul's best part for ever to the grave! How silent did his old companions tread, By midnight lamps, the mansions of the dead, Through breathing statues, then unheeded things, Through rows of warriors, and through walks of kings!
Page 85 - Erin, my country ! though sad and forsaken, In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore ; But, alas ! in a far foreign land I awaken, And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more ! Oh cruel fate ! wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace — where no perils can chase me?
Page 4 - Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.