PoemsE. Moxon, 1857 - 388 Seiten |
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Ergebnisse 1-5 von 23
Seite 10
... living thing ! No scooping hollow cell to lodge A furtive beast or fowl , The martin , bat , Or forest cat That nightly loves to prowl , Nor ivy nook so apt to shroud The moping , snoring owl . But still the sound was in my ear , A sad ...
... living thing ! No scooping hollow cell to lodge A furtive beast or fowl , The martin , bat , Or forest cat That nightly loves to prowl , Nor ivy nook so apt to shroud The moping , snoring owl . But still the sound was in my ear , A sad ...
Seite 11
... living sound E'er hovers round , Unless the vagrant breeze , The music of the merry bird , Or hum of busy bees . But busy bees forsake the Elm That bears no bloom aloft- The Finch was in the hawthorn - bush , The Blackbird in the croft ...
... living sound E'er hovers round , Unless the vagrant breeze , The music of the merry bird , Or hum of busy bees . But busy bees forsake the Elm That bears no bloom aloft- The Finch was in the hawthorn - bush , The Blackbird in the croft ...
Seite 23
... living blood ! " No forest Monarch yearly clad In mantle green or brown ; That unrecorded lives , and falls By hand of rustic clown- But Kings who don the purple robe , And wear the jewell'd crown . 66 " Ah ! little recks the Royal mind ...
... living blood ! " No forest Monarch yearly clad In mantle green or brown ; That unrecorded lives , and falls By hand of rustic clown- But Kings who don the purple robe , And wear the jewell'd crown . 66 " Ah ! little recks the Royal mind ...
Seite 26
... living frame shall find Its narrow house and dark . That mystic Tree which breathed to me A sad and solemn sound , That sometimes murmur'd overhead , And sometimes underground ; Within that shady Avenue Where lofty Elms abound . THE ...
... living frame shall find Its narrow house and dark . That mystic Tree which breathed to me A sad and solemn sound , That sometimes murmur'd overhead , And sometimes underground ; Within that shady Avenue Where lofty Elms abound . THE ...
Seite 58
... living to earn , Between the light and dark ; My daily bread , and nightly bed , My bacon , and drop of beer- But all from the hand that holds the land , And none from the overseer ! No parish money , or loaf , No pauper badges for me ...
... living to earn , Between the light and dark ; My daily bread , and nightly bed , My bacon , and drop of beer- But all from the hand that holds the land , And none from the overseer ! No parish money , or loaf , No pauper badges for me ...
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
arms beauty beneath bird bloom blue breath bright brow cheeks cloth cloud cold dance dark dead dear Death deep double dream earth eyes face fair fairy fall fancy fear fell flowers gaze gentle give gloom gold golden gone green grief hair hand hath head heart hollow hope human hung Kilmansegg leaves light limbs lips living looks mind Miss moon morn mortal never night o'er once pale pity POEMS poor pride rich rose round sense shade shadows shine sighs sing sleep smiles sometimes song soon sorrow soul sound spirit stand stream summer sweet tears thee There's thing thou thought Till tree true turn turn'd voice volume warm waters wave weep wild wind wings young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 45 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat, in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread — Stitch — stitch — stitch ! In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, — Would that its tone could reach the Rich ! She sang this " Song of the Shirt !
Seite 42 - Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses; Whilst wonderment guesses, Where was her home ? Who was her father? Who was her mother? Had she a sister? Had she a brother?
Seite 47 - Work — work — work ! In the dull December light, And work — work — work! When the weather is warm and bright — While underneath the eaves The brooding swallows cling, As if to show me their sunny backs And twit me with the Spring.
Seite 41 - One more unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death! 'Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; Fashioned so slenderly, Young, and so fair! "Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. "Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her,— All that remains...
Seite 32 - O'er all there hung a shadow and a fear ; A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is Haunted!
Seite xiii - All night I lay in agony, From weary chime to chime; With one besetting horrid hint That racked me all the time — A mighty yearning, like the first Fierce impulse unto crime — "One stern tyrannic thought, that made All other thoughts its slave! Stronger and stronger every pulse Did that temptation crave — Still urging me to go and see The dead man in his grave!
Seite 177 - Spurn'd by the young, but hugg'd by the old To the very verge of the churchyard mould ; Price of many a crime untold ; Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold...
Seite 31 - For over all there hung a cloud of fear, A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is Haunted I PART II.
Seite xiii - His hat was off, his vest apart, To catch heaven's blessed breeze; For a burning thought was in his brow, And his bosom ill at ease: So he leaned his head on his hands, and read The book between his knees.
Seite 386 - THERE is a silence where hath been no sound, There is a silence where no sound may be, In the cold grave — under the deep, deep sea, Or in wide desert where no life is found, Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound ; No voice is hushed — no life treads silently, But clouds and cloudy shadows wander free, That never spoke, over the idle ground : But in green ruins, in the desolate walls Of antique palaces, where Man hath been, Though the dun fox, or wild...