Garden Walks with the Poets |
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Page 14
... hast spared the flowers ; The Spring has been a cold belated one , Dark clouds and showers , and a little sun , And in the nipping mornings , hoary frost ; We hoped , but feared the tender seeds were lost , But , thanks to thee , at ...
... hast spared the flowers ; The Spring has been a cold belated one , Dark clouds and showers , and a little sun , And in the nipping mornings , hoary frost ; We hoped , but feared the tender seeds were lost , But , thanks to thee , at ...
Page 21
... sooner o'er the budding forests rise With that sweet light which lovers inly hail ; And thus , sad moon , when most thou art apale , Thou hast a promise for my hopeful eyes . Song in Praise of Spring . HEN the wind blows.
... sooner o'er the budding forests rise With that sweet light which lovers inly hail ; And thus , sad moon , when most thou art apale , Thou hast a promise for my hopeful eyes . Song in Praise of Spring . HEN the wind blows.
Page 24
... hast joined the gentle train , And wear'st the gentle name of Spring . And in thy reign of blast and storm , Smiles many a long , bright , sunny day , When the changed winds are soft and warm , And heaven puts on the blue of May . MARCH ...
... hast joined the gentle train , And wear'st the gentle name of Spring . And in thy reign of blast and storm , Smiles many a long , bright , sunny day , When the changed winds are soft and warm , And heaven puts on the blue of May . MARCH ...
Page 45
... hast not gone without thy fame ; Thou art , indeed , by many a claim , The Poet's darling . If to a rock from rains he fly , Or , some bright day of April sky , Imprisoned by hot sunshine , lie Near the green holly , And wearily at ...
... hast not gone without thy fame ; Thou art , indeed , by many a claim , The Poet's darling . If to a rock from rains he fly , Or , some bright day of April sky , Imprisoned by hot sunshine , lie Near the green holly , And wearily at ...
Page 55
... Hast thou left thy cavern drear , In the hope of summer hours ? Back unto thy earthen bowers ! Back to thy warm world below , Till the strength of suns and showers Quell the now relentless snow . Art still here ? —Alive and blythe ...
... Hast thou left thy cavern drear , In the hope of summer hours ? Back unto thy earthen bowers ! Back to thy warm world below , Till the strength of suns and showers Quell the now relentless snow . Art still here ? —Alive and blythe ...
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Garden Walks with the Poets (Classic Reprint) Mrs. Caroline Matilda Kirkland No preview available - 2017 |
Common terms and phrases
angels Anon Autumn Barry Cornwall beauty beneath blessed bloom blossoms blow blue boughs bowers breast breath breeze bright buds Buttercups charms cheer child clouds Countess of Winchelsea creeping daisies dear delight doth dream earth Elizabeth Barrett Browning eyes fade fair fairy fancy FLOWER ANGELS flowers fly away home fragrant garden gaze gentle glad glory glowing golden golden air green happy Hartley Coleridge hast hath heart heaven Heigh hills holy idlesse Jeune leaf leaves Leigh Hunt light Lily lips lonely look Mary Howitt merry morning Nature's night o'er ODE ON MELANCHOLY perfume pleasant pleasure pride rain Robert Herrick rose round SARAH ROBERTS shade shining showers sigh silent sing skies smile snow soft song soul spirit Spring star stream Summer sunny sweet tears thee thine thing thou art thought tree violets whisper wild winds wings
Popular passages
Page 168 - Winter, yelling through the troublous air, Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes, — So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, Thy gentlest influence own, And love thy favourite name.
Page 128 - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays; Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, •An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
Page 241 - I have nought that is fair?" saith he; "Have nought but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves.
Page 42 - Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less, Withdraws into its happiness: The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find ; Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds and other seas, Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade.
Page 167 - Whose numbers, stealing through thy darkening vale, May not unseemly with its stillness suit, As, musing slow, I hail Thy genial, loved return ! For when thy folding star — arising shows His paly circlet, at his warning lamp The fragrant hours, and elves Who slept in buds the day, And many a nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge. And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still, The pensive pleasures sweet Prepare thy shadowy car, Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene, Or find some ruin...
Page 129 - The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest, — In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best...
Page 20 - SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine. Stars they are, wherein we read our history, As astrologers and seers of eld ; Yet not wrapped about with awful mystery, Like the burning stars, which they beheld.
Page 254 - Then wherefore, wherefore were they made, All dyed with rainbow light, All fashioned with supremest grace Upspringing day and night : — Springing in valleys green and low. And on the mountains high, And in the silent wilderness Where no man passes by...
Page 178 - And to his robbery had annex'd thy breath, But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth A vengeful canker eat him up to death. More flowers I noted, yet I none could see But sweet or colour it had stolen from thee.
Page 178 - The forward violet thus did I chide : Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells, If not from my love's breath ? The purple pride Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed.