Choice Poems and LyricsWhittaker, 1862 - 317 pages |
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Page 27
... and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men ; A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell , Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again , Night before the Battle of Waterloo . 27.
... and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men ; A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell , Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again , Night before the Battle of Waterloo . 27.
Page 28
Choice poems. Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again , And all went merry as a marriage - bell ; But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell ! · Did ye not hear it ? —No ; ' twas but the wind , Or the car rattling ...
Choice poems. Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again , And all went merry as a marriage - bell ; But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell ! · Did ye not hear it ? —No ; ' twas but the wind , Or the car rattling ...
Page 40
... soft , sad eyes of weeping love , As the Virgin Mother's mild . Oh ! roughly cradled was thy babe , Midst the clash of spear and lance , And a strange , wild bower was thine , young Fair Marguerite of France ! A dark and vaulted chamber ...
... soft , sad eyes of weeping love , As the Virgin Mother's mild . Oh ! roughly cradled was thy babe , Midst the clash of spear and lance , And a strange , wild bower was thine , young Fair Marguerite of France ! A dark and vaulted chamber ...
Page 53
... soft Thro ' boughs and blinding leaves her bursting way pursued . The dry twig , matted in the spear - like grass , Where fresh from morning's womb the orbèd dew Lies cold at noon , cracked as she stepped light through , Startling the ...
... soft Thro ' boughs and blinding leaves her bursting way pursued . The dry twig , matted in the spear - like grass , Where fresh from morning's womb the orbèd dew Lies cold at noon , cracked as she stepped light through , Startling the ...
Page 55
... soft going now She screened the sunny pane , those dear old eyes to shade . Then sitting in their garden - plot , they saw With what delicious clearness the far height Seemed coming near , and slips of falling light Lay on green ...
... soft going now She screened the sunny pane , those dear old eyes to shade . Then sitting in their garden - plot , they saw With what delicious clearness the far height Seemed coming near , and slips of falling light Lay on green ...
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Common terms and phrases
Adelaide Anne Procter beauty beneath bird bless blest bloom Born bosom bower brave breast breath bright brow Casa Wappy charms cheerful cloud cold dark David Macbeth Moir dear death deep delight Died dost doth earth eternal eyes fair farewell fear flame flow flower gaze glory glowing grace grave green Grongar Hill hand happy hast hath heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre hills hope hour King light Lochaber looked Lord lyre MARGUERITE OF FRANCE morning mother Mother's Love mourn nature's ne'er never Nevermore night o'er peace pleasure praise pride Queen Quoth the Raven rill rise rose round shade shore sigh sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spring star stream sweet tears thee thine thou art throne toil trembling Twas vale voice waves weep wild William Shenstone wind wing Yarrow youth
Popular passages
Page 26 - Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door — Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as
Page 25 - Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,— " Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, " art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore !" Quoth the Raven,
Page 29 - thing of evil ! — prophet still, if bird or devil ! By that Heaven that bends above us — by that God we both adore — Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore — Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore?
Page 28 - Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!' Quoth the Raven 'Nevermore.' 'Prophet!' said I, 'thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil! Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted On this home by Horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!
Page 22 - Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore, Nameless here for evermore.
Page 47 - Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please, How often have I loitered o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene...
Page 48 - Along thy glades, a solitary guest, The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest ; Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies, And tires their echoes with unvaried cries ; Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all, And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall ; And trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand, Far, far away thy children leave the land.
Page 6 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 46 - 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 23 - And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me— filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "* Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door: This it is and nothing more.