The Poetical Works of Robert SoutheyLongman, Brown, Green, and Longmans, 1845 - 800 من الصفحات |
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amid arms art thou Aztlan battle behold beneath bless blood breast call'd called cheek chief child cried dark dead dear death dreadful duke of Burgundy Dunois earth evil exclaim'd fair falchion father fear feel fell fire France gazed glory grave hand happy hath head hear heard heart Heaven holy honour hope hour Joan of Arc John Ball Keswick King knew land light live look'd Lord Madoc Maid Mexitli morning mountain Neolin never night o'er Orleans Pabas pass'd peace poem poor prayer Priest Prince quoth reach'd replied rest round says sight song soul sound spake spirit stone stood sword Tezozomoc Thalaba thee thine things thou hast thought Tlaloc toil tower tree turn'd Twas Urien voice walls Wat Tyler waves Westbury wind wonder wretched young youth Yuhidthiton
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 449 - They say it was a shocking sight after the field was won; for many thousand bodies here lay rotting in the sun; but things like that, you know, must be after a famous victory. Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, and our good Prince Eugene. "Why, 'twas a very wicked thing!" said little Wilhelmine. "Nay... nay... my little girl," quoth he, "it was a famous victory.
الصفحة 164 - The cataract strong Then plunges along, Striking and raging As if a war waging Its caverns and rocks among; Rising and leaping, Sinking and creeping, Swelling and sweeping, Showering and springing, Flying and flinging, Writhing and wringing, Eddying and whisking, Spouting and frisking, Turning and twisting Around and around With endless rebound: Smiting and fighting, A sight to delight in; Confounding, astounding, Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound.
الصفحة 449 - Old Kaspar took it from the boy Who stood expectant by; And then the old man shook his head. And with a natural sigh, ' Tis some poor fellow's skull,' said he, 'Who fell in the great victory.
الصفحة 449 - twas all about,' Young Peterkin he cries; And little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting eyes; 'Now tell us all about the war, And what they fought each other for.
الصفحة 143 - My days among the Dead are past; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old: My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day.
الصفحة 235 - My brethren have dealt deceitfully as a brook, and as the stream of brooks they pass away; Which are blackish by reason of the ice, and wherein the snow is hid: What time they wax warm, they vanish: when it is hot, they are consumed out of their place.
الصفحة 7 - But the Lord said unto me, Say not, I am a child : for thou shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I command thee thou shalt speak.
الصفحة 208 - How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!
الصفحة 450 - And everybody praised the Duke Who this great fight did win." " But what good came of it at last ? " Quoth little Peterkin. " Why, that I cannot tell," said he,
الصفحة 213 - How beautiful is night ! A dewy freshness fills the silent air, No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven : In full-orbed glory yonder moon divine Rolls through the dark blue depths.