English verse for repetition, with notes by W.B. Stanford

الغلاف الأمامي
1873 - 104 من الصفحات
 

ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة

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الصفحة 65 - 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.
الصفحة 19 - Toll for the brave ! Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought ; His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak...
الصفحة 32 - One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow,
الصفحة 68 - A WET sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast And fills the white and rustling sail And bends the gallant mast, And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. " Oh for a soft and gentle wind...
الصفحة 20 - The way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old; His withered cheek, and tresses gray, Seemed to have known a better day; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by an orphan boy.
الصفحة 23 - 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...
الصفحة 48 - THE boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but him had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck, Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm ; A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though child-like form.
الصفحة 1 - Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle; A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull...
الصفحة 5 - Fear no more the heat o' the sun Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages; Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
الصفحة 6 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings ; Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

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