Narrative and Lyric Poems: For StudentsSamuel Swayze Seward |
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Page 5
... birds on the tree : ' Never was I sent for before any king , My father , my grandfather , nor none but mee . ' And if wee goe the king before , I would we went most orderly ; Every man of you shall have his scarlet cloak , Laced with ...
... birds on the tree : ' Never was I sent for before any king , My father , my grandfather , nor none but mee . ' And if wee goe the king before , I would we went most orderly ; Every man of you shall have his scarlet cloak , Laced with ...
Page 8
... birds fly wild from tree to tree ; But there is neither bread nor kale To fend my men and me . ' Yet I will stay at Otterbourne , Where you shall welcome be ; And , if ye come not at three dayis end , A fause lord I'll ca thee ...
... birds fly wild from tree to tree ; But there is neither bread nor kale To fend my men and me . ' Yet I will stay at Otterbourne , Where you shall welcome be ; And , if ye come not at three dayis end , A fause lord I'll ca thee ...
Page 20
... for your silver bright , But for your winsome lady : — ' And by my word ! the bonny bird In danger shall not tarry ; So though the waves are raging white I'll row you o'er the ferry . ' By this the storm grew loud apace , The water 20.
... for your silver bright , But for your winsome lady : — ' And by my word ! the bonny bird In danger shall not tarry ; So though the waves are raging white I'll row you o'er the ferry . ' By this the storm grew loud apace , The water 20.
Page 30
... birds sing . ' O what can ail thee , knight - at - arms ! So haggard and so woe - begone ? The squirrel's granary is full , And the harvest's done . ' I see a lily on thy brow With anguish moist and fever - dew , And on thy cheeks a ...
... birds sing . ' O what can ail thee , knight - at - arms ! So haggard and so woe - begone ? The squirrel's granary is full , And the harvest's done . ' I see a lily on thy brow With anguish moist and fever - dew , And on thy cheeks a ...
Page 32
... birds sing . ' J. Keats . EARL MARCH LOOK'D ON HIS DYING CHILD EARL MARCH look'd on his dying child , And , smit with grief to view her- The youth , he cried , whom I exiled Shall be restored to woo her ... bird , When shall 32 LATE BALLADS.
... birds sing . ' J. Keats . EARL MARCH LOOK'D ON HIS DYING CHILD EARL MARCH look'd on his dying child , And , smit with grief to view her- The youth , he cried , whom I exiled Shall be restored to woo her ... bird , When shall 32 LATE BALLADS.
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Common terms and phrases
Afrasiab Agnes ancient Mariner arms Athens ballad battle BATTLE OF NASEBY Battle of Otterburn beauty bird breast breath bright cloud cold dæmons dead dear death deep doth dream earth eyes face fair fear feel fight flowers glory grace grave green hair hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Keats King lady land light lips live look look'd Lord Lord Byron Lord Randal Moon morn mortal never night nymph o'er Otterbourne Oxus P. B. Shelley pale Persian Pheidippides poem poetry Porphyro rose round Rustum sails sand seem'd Seistan ship silent sing Sir Patrick Spens sleep smile soft Sohrab song soul sound spake spear spirit stanza stars stood story sweet Sylph Tartar tears tell Thalestris thee thine things thou art thought Twas voice wave wild wind words Wordsworth young youth
Popular passages
Page 279 - 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 363 - Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy! Hence in a season of calm weather Though inland far we be, Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the Children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Page 253 - 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 181 - 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 350 - 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 203 - 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; The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride...
Page 205 - 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 351 - Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them!
Page 355 - What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Page 332 - A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced: Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail: And "mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river.