A Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics |
From inside the book
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... never was by mortal finger strook No white nor red was ever seen , So amorous as this lovely green . Here at the fountain's sliding foot Or at some fruit - tree's mossy root , Casting the body's vest aside My soul into the boughs does ...
... never was by mortal finger strook No white nor red was ever seen , So amorous as this lovely green . Here at the fountain's sliding foot Or at some fruit - tree's mossy root , Casting the body's vest aside My soul into the boughs does ...
Page 12
... NEVER say that I was false of heart , Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify : As easy might I from myself depart As from my soul , which in thy breast doth lie ; That is my home of love ; if I have ranged , Like him that travels , I ...
... NEVER say that I was false of heart , Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify : As easy might I from myself depart As from my soul , which in thy breast doth lie ; That is my home of love ; if I have ranged , Like him that travels , I ...
Page 18
... in delays , Forget not yet ! Forget not ! O , forget not this , How long ago hath been , and is The mind that never meant amiss Forget not yet ! Forget not then thine own approved The which so long 18 THE GOLDEN TREASURY.
... in delays , Forget not yet ! Forget not ! O , forget not this , How long ago hath been , and is The mind that never meant amiss Forget not yet ! Forget not then thine own approved The which so long 18 THE GOLDEN TREASURY.
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... never moved Forget not this ! SIR T. WYAT XXII O TO AURORA IF thou knew'st how thou thyself dost harm , And dost prejudge thy bliss , and spoil my rest ; Then thou would'st melt the ice out of thy breast And thy relenting heart world ...
... never moved Forget not this ! SIR T. WYAT XXII O TO AURORA IF thou knew'st how thou thyself dost harm , And dost prejudge thy bliss , and spoil my rest ; Then thou would'st melt the ice out of thy breast And thy relenting heart world ...
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... never shaken ; It is the star to every wandering bark , Whose worth's unknown , although his height be taken ... never writ , nor no man ever loved . XXIV W. SHAKESPEARE MY A DITTY [ Y true - love hath my heart , and I have his , By just ...
... never shaken ; It is the star to every wandering bark , Whose worth's unknown , although his height be taken ... never writ , nor no man ever loved . XXIV W. SHAKESPEARE MY A DITTY [ Y true - love hath my heart , and I have his , By just ...
Common terms and phrases
adieu Love auld Robin Gray beauty behold beneath birds blest bonnie bower breast breath bright Brignall brow cheek chidden clouds County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dream earth eyes fair fear flowers frae gentle glory golden golden slumber gone green happy hast hath Hazeldean hear heard heart heaven Heigh hour Kirconnell kiss leaves light live look'd LORD LORD BYRON love's lover lute Lycidas lyre maid mind morn mountains Muse ne'er never night nonny numbers Nymph o'er P. B. SHELLEY pale pleasure Rosaline rose round seem'd shade SHAKESPEARE shine shore sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star stream sweet tears tell thee There's thine thou art thought tree vex'd voice waly waly waves weary weep wild winds wings WORDSWORTH Yarrow youth
Popular passages
Page 173 - For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed Swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
Page 210 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love. A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
Page 356 - My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began ; So is it now I am a man ; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The child is father of the man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
Page 172 - Th' applause of listening senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes, Their lot forbade: nor circumscribed alone Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined; Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind...
Page 343 - mid the steep sky's commotion, Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed, Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean, Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread On the blue surface of thine airy surge, Like the bright hair uplifted from the head Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge Of the horizon to the zenith's height The locks of the approaching storm.
Page 171 - 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, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How jocund did they drive their team afield! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
Page 11 - 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...
Page 304 - To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core ; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Page 358 - Ye blessed creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal, The fulness of your bliss, I feel — I feel it all. Oh evil day! if I were sullen While Earth herself is adorning This sweet May-morning; And the children are culling On every side In a thousand valleys far and wide, Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm And the babe leaps up on his mother's arm...
Page 23 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's •waste...