The Poets and the Poetry of the Nineteenth Century, Volume 2G. Routledge, 1905 |
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Page ix
... NATIONAL AIRS- Oft in the Stilly Night LALLA ROOKH- 1. Paradise and the Peri 11. The Fire Worshippers • NOTES TO POEMS BY THOMAS MOORE 204 205 · 222 230 PAGE EBENEZER ELLIOTT ( 1781-1849 ) Alfred H. Miles 231 INDEX . ix PAGE.
... NATIONAL AIRS- Oft in the Stilly Night LALLA ROOKH- 1. Paradise and the Peri 11. The Fire Worshippers • NOTES TO POEMS BY THOMAS MOORE 204 205 · 222 230 PAGE EBENEZER ELLIOTT ( 1781-1849 ) Alfred H. Miles 231 INDEX . ix PAGE.
Page 12
... fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide , And many a childing mother then And new - born baby died ; But things like that , you know , must be At every famous victory . " They say it was a shocking sight , After the ...
... fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide , And many a childing mother then And new - born baby died ; But things like that , you know , must be At every famous victory . " They say it was a shocking sight , After the ...
Page 36
... fire Opening beneath his feet . At times the groan Of some poor fugitive , who , bearing with him His mortal hurt , had fallen beside the way , Roused him from these dread visions , and he call'd In answering groans on his Redeemer's ...
... fire Opening beneath his feet . At times the groan Of some poor fugitive , who , bearing with him His mortal hurt , had fallen beside the way , Roused him from these dread visions , and he call'd In answering groans on his Redeemer's ...
Page 65
... fire have mark'd thy way , All loathsome , all unutterable crimes . A curse is on thee , France ! from far and wide It hath gone up to Heaven ; all lands have cried For vengeance upon thy detested head ; All nations curse thee , France ...
... fire have mark'd thy way , All loathsome , all unutterable crimes . A curse is on thee , France ! from far and wide It hath gone up to Heaven ; all lands have cried For vengeance upon thy detested head ; All nations curse thee , France ...
Page 71
... fire with martyrs fed , Hateful Henry , not with thee May her happy spirit be ! And here lies one whose tragic name A reverential thought may claim ; That murder'd Monarch , whom the grave , Revealing its long secret , gave Again to ...
... fire with martyrs fed , Hateful Henry , not with thee May her happy spirit be ! And here lies one whose tragic name A reverential thought may claim ; That murder'd Monarch , whom the grave , Revealing its long secret , gave Again to ...
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Common terms and phrases
Adah Artemidora beauty behold beneath bosom bower breast breath bright brow Byron Cain Canto Charles Lamb charm cheek child clouds Corn Law dark dead dear death deep dream earth EBENEZER ELLIOTT eyes fair fame father fear feel fire flowers gaze gentle grave hand hast hath heard heart Heaven hope hour JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES Landor Leigh Hunt light lips living lone look Lord LORD BYRON maid Modus Moore morn mountains ne'er never night o'er pale PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY poems poet poet's Rhaicos ROBERT SOUTHEY Roderick rose round Samian wine scene seem'd shade Shelley sigh silent sleep smile song soul spirit star stream sweet tears tell thee thine THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK thou art thought tree Twas voice WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR waves weep wild wind wings young
Popular passages
Page 155 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow ; While the battle rages loud and long And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 411 - SHE walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies ; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes : Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Page 432 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean - roll ! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin - his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own. When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.
Page 546 - Teach us, sprite or bird, What sweet thoughts are thine! I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
Page 547 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain ? What fields, or waves, or mountains ? What shapes of sky or plain ? What love of thine own kind ? what ignorance of pain ? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be: Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee : Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Page 11 - IT was a summer evening, Old Kaspar's work was done, And he before his cottage door Was sitting in the sun; And by him sported on the green His little grandchild Wilhelmine. She saw her brother Peterkin Roll something large and round Which he beside the rivulet In playing there had found; He came to ask what he had found That was so large and smooth and round. 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...
Page 164 - OF Nelson and the North Sing the glorious day's renown, When to battle fierce came forth All the might of Denmark's crown, And her arms along the deep proudly shone; By each gun the lighted brand In a bold determined hand, And the Prince of all the land Led them on.
Page 423 - Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine, And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scatter'd cities crowning these, Whose far white walls along them shine, Have strew'da scene, which I should see With double joy wert thou with me.
Page 13 - Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen Wrinkled and keen; No grazing cattle through their prickly round Can reach to wound; But as they grow where nothing is to fear, Smooth and unarm'd the pointless leaves appear.
Page 469 - The isles of Greece ! the isles of Greece ! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, — Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phcebus sprung ! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set. The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse ; Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further west Than your sires'