Gleanings from the Poets: For Home and School |
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Page 2
... loudly it blows , It calls but the warders that guard thy repose ; Their bows would be bended , their blades would be red , Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed . O , Lush thee , my baby , the time will soon come When thy ...
... loudly it blows , It calls but the warders that guard thy repose ; Their bows would be bended , their blades would be red , Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed . O , Lush thee , my baby , the time will soon come When thy ...
Page 3
... loud cries , Which its hard - working mother afar off will hear ; She comes at its calling , she quiets its squalling , And feeds it , and leaves it again without fear . When you were as young as this field - nursed daugh- ter , You ...
... loud cries , Which its hard - working mother afar off will hear ; She comes at its calling , she quiets its squalling , And feeds it , and leaves it again without fear . When you were as young as this field - nursed daugh- ter , You ...
Page 9
... loud and bold ; I asked her what she did abroad When the wind it blew so cold . She said her father was at home , And he lay sick abed ; And therefore was it she was sent Abroad to beg for bread . We saw a woman sitting down Upon a ...
... loud and bold ; I asked her what she did abroad When the wind it blew so cold . She said her father was at home , And he lay sick abed ; And therefore was it she was sent Abroad to beg for bread . We saw a woman sitting down Upon a ...
Page 18
... loud wind roared , the rain fell fast , The white man yielded to the blast ; He sat him down beneath the tree , For weary , faint , and sad was he ; And , ah ! no wife , or mother's care , For him the milk or corn prepare . CHORUS . The ...
... loud wind roared , the rain fell fast , The white man yielded to the blast ; He sat him down beneath the tree , For weary , faint , and sad was he ; And , ah ! no wife , or mother's care , For him the milk or corn prepare . CHORUS . The ...
Page 66
... Loudly shouts , with taunting cry , " Yield thee , yield thee , Don Saavedra ! Dost thou from the battle fly ? " Well I know thee , haughty Christian , Long I lived beneath thy roof ; Oft I've in the lists of glory Seen thee win the ...
... Loudly shouts , with taunting cry , " Yield thee , yield thee , Don Saavedra ! Dost thou from the battle fly ? " Well I know thee , haughty Christian , Long I lived beneath thy roof ; Oft I've in the lists of glory Seen thee win the ...
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Common terms and phrases
AUTUMN MUSINGS BATTLE OF BLENHEIM beauty beneath bird Birdie blessed breast breath bright brother brow canst cheer child Crocodile dark dead dear death delight dost doth dream E'en earth fair fairy father fear flowers fly away home glory gone grave green hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Inchcape rock John Barleycorn king Lady Moon lady-bird land Leigh Hunt light live lonely look Lord loud Mabel Mary Howitt MIDSUMMER DAY mind Miss Lamb mother mountain mourn ne'er never night o'er ODE TO DUTY Old English Poetry Patrick Spence poor praise Queen rock round sail Samian wine shining silent sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thou hast thought tree unto voice wandering waves weep wild wind wings wood
Popular passages
Page 322 - This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.
Page 174 - Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. " Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. " Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My music shows ye have your closes, And all must die. "Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like season'd timber, never gives ; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then...
Page 135 - Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? — They sought a faith's pure shrine ! Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod; They have left unstained what there they found, — Freedom to worship God.
Page 135 - And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er. When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Page 320 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake, To perish never; Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy!
Page 357 - Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go On the light fantastic toe, And in thy right hand lead with thee The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty ; And if I give thee honour due, Mirth, admit me of thy crew To live with her, and live with thee In unreproved pleasures free...
Page 410 - I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech ; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach.
Page 365 - And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Page 156 - SHE was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
Page 113 - 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.