The Golden Treasury |
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Page 37
... hast told these honours done to thee , Then tell , O tell , how thou didst murder me ! T. Campion LX SEPHESTIA'S SONG TO HER CHILD Weep not , my wanton , smile upon my knee ; When thou art old there's grief enough for thee . Mother's ...
... hast told these honours done to thee , Then tell , O tell , how thou didst murder me ! T. Campion LX SEPHESTIA'S SONG TO HER CHILD Weep not , my wanton , smile upon my knee ; When thou art old there's grief enough for thee . Mother's ...
Page 40
... 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 ' the great , Thou art past the tyrant's stroke ; Care no more to clothe and eat ; To thee ...
... 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 ' the great , Thou art past the tyrant's stroke ; Care no more to clothe and eat ; To thee ...
Page 50
... hast thou golden slumbers ? O sweet content ! Art thou rich , yet is thy mind perplex'd ? O punishment ! Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vex'd To add to golden numbers , golden numbers ? O sweet content ! O sweet , O sweet content ...
... hast thou golden slumbers ? O sweet content ! Art thou rich , yet is thy mind perplex'd ? O punishment ! Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vex'd To add to golden numbers , golden numbers ? O sweet content ! O sweet , O sweet content ...
Page 56
... Hast thou no verse , no hymn , or solemn strain To welcome Him to this His new abode , Now while the heaven , by the sun's team untrod , Hath took no print of the approaching light , And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons ...
... Hast thou no verse , no hymn , or solemn strain To welcome Him to this His new abode , Now while the heaven , by the sun's team untrod , Hath took no print of the approaching light , And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons ...
Page 98
... hast command of every part , To live and die for thee . R. Herrick CXXV Love not me for comely grace , For my pleasing eye or face , Nor for any outward part , No , nor for my constant heart , — For those may fail , or turn to ill , So ...
... hast command of every part , To live and die for thee . R. Herrick CXXV Love not me for comely grace , For my pleasing eye or face , Nor for any outward part , No , nor for my constant heart , — For those may fail , or turn to ill , So ...
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Common terms and phrases
Arethuse beauty beneath birds bonnie bower breast breath bright Brignall brow cheek clouds County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dream earth Edited ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA eyes fair Fancy fear flowers frae gentle glory golden Gray green H. F. Lyte happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill John Anderson Julius Cæsar Kirconnell kiss leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Byron Love's Lycidas lyre mind morn mountains Muse ne'er never night numbers Nymph o'er P. B. Shelley passion Pindar pleasure poem poet Poetry rose round S. T. Coleridge seem'd shade Shakespeare sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit Spring star sweet tears tell thee There's thine thou art thought tree Twas voice waly waly waves weep white-thorn wild winds wings Wordsworth Yarrow youth
Popular passages
Page 291 - I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, — A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay : Ten thousand saw I, at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced, but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee ; A poet could not...
Page 10 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least ; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Page 15 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
Page 172 - Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care; No children run to lisp their sire's return,...
Page 332 - To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest ? What little town by river or sea shore, Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn ? And, little town, thy streets for evermore Will silent be ; and not a soul to tell Why thou art desolate, can e'er return. O Attic shape ! Fair attitude ! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden...
Page 281 - EARTH has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will:...
Page 23 - That time of year thou may'st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Page 280 - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Page 331 - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Page 174 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er...