BalladsTinsley Bros., 1865 - 125 pages |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Abbot Anders Dag Aquitaine arrow BALLADS bright Call thee Christmas Eve church that morning CRUEL SPRINGTIME Dance dared to love dead dearest DESERTED Dies Ira dream earth Eurydice ev'ry faded fading day fair Faithless fast foglia gazed glitter'd gloom glowing golden gone hair harebell heav'n hill hush'd JOAN OF ARC kiss thy late To go LAUDO DEUM leafy LEGEND OF BOISGUILBERT linger'd lips little Marguerite LONELY LONG AGO LORD MACAULAY meadow monks never come back night night-winds free o'er OLD MEMORIES once pane passion past Plague RELIQUIE RHINE-MAIDEN river flow'd round my door ruin'd sad rhymes saw her standing shadow sigh silent silver silver arrow singing sleep Sleepest thou snow stars stood strange streamlet sunny Rhineland sweet tears thine eyes thou art Thou canst thought throne thy feet thy hand To-morrow to-night tow'r Twas village voice wander weary whisp'ring leaves WILD BELLS wind WINTER SONG ZULEIKA
Popular passages
Page 125 - L'orage a frappé le chêne Qui seul était mon soutien ; De son inconstante haleine Le zéphyr ou l'aquilon Depuis ce jour me promène De la forêt à la plaine, De la montagne au vallon. Je vais où le vent me mène, Sans me plaindre ou m'effrayer ; Je vais où va toute chose, Où va la feuille de rose Et la feuille de laurier ! Arnault.
Page 15 - And the eyes that beamed so brightly, Come no more ! By the firelight's fitful gleaming I am dreaming, ever dreaming, And the rain is slowly falling all around ; And voices that are nearest, Of friends the best and dearest, Appear to have a strange and distant sound. Now the weary wind is sighing, And the murky day is dying, And the...
Page 11 - A WILD, wet night ! The driving sleet Blurs all the lamps along the quay ; The windows shake ; the busy street Is yet alive with hurrying feet ; The wind raves from the sea ! So let it rave ! My lamp burns bright ; My long day's work is almost done ; I curtain out each sound and sight — Of all nights in the year, to-night I choose to be alone. Alone, with doors and windows fast, Before my open desk I stand .... Alas ! can twelve long months be past, My hidden, hidden wealth, since last I held thee...
Page 12 - I choose to be alone. Alone, with doors and windows fast, Before my open desk I stand, Alas ! can twelve long months be past, My hidden, hidden wealth ! since last I held thee in my hand. So there it lies ! from year to year I see the ribbon change ; the page Turn yellower ; and the very tear That blots the writing, disappear, And fade away with age. Mine eyes grow dim when they behold The precious trifles hoarded there — A ring of battered Indian gold, A withered blue bell, and a fold Of sunny...
Page 14 - I mourn, the weary moments passing by, And the heavy evening gloom Gathers slowly in the room, And the chill November darkness dims the sky. Now the countless busy feet Cross each other in the street, And I watch the faces flitting past my door ; But the step that lingered nightly, And the hand that rapp'd so lightly, And the...
Page 110 - Parted from thy native bough, Whither, whither goest thou, Leaflet frail? From the oak tree where I grew In the vale ; From the woods all wet with dew Lo ! the wind hath torn me ! Over hill and plain he flew, And hither he hath borne me.
Page 12 - ... hurrying feet ; The wind raves from the sea ! So let it rave ! My lamp burns bright ; My long day's work is almost done ; I curtain out each sound and sight — Of all nights in the year, to-night I choose to be alone. Alone, with doors and windows fast, Before my open desk I stand .... Alas ! can twelve long months be past, My hidden, hidden wealth, since last I held thee in my hand ? So, there it lies ! From year to year I see the ribbon change ; the page Turn yellower ; and the very tear That...
Page 16 - ... dreaming, And the rain is slowly falling all around; And voices that are nearest, Of friends the best and dearest, Appear to have a strange and distant sound. Now the weary wind is sighing, And the murky day is dying, And the wither'd leaves lie scatter'd round my door; But that voice whose gentle greeting Set this heart so wildly beating At each fond and frequent greeting comes no more. All the Year Round: "Lonely.