Garden Walks with the PoetsG.P. Putman, 1852 - 340ÆäÀÌÁö |
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... seem capricious in the selection is therefore to be ascribed to redundance and excellence of material . I should have been glad to make my book hold twice as many poems , and have left out not a few favorites , sorely against my will ...
... seem capricious in the selection is therefore to be ascribed to redundance and excellence of material . I should have been glad to make my book hold twice as many poems , and have left out not a few favorites , sorely against my will ...
25 ÆäÀÌÁö
... yet . Thou bring'st the hope of those calm skies , And that soft time of sunny showers , When the wide bloom on earth that lies , Seems of a brighter world than ours . 2 25 Flowers . Barry Cornwall . E have left behind us.
... yet . Thou bring'st the hope of those calm skies , And that soft time of sunny showers , When the wide bloom on earth that lies , Seems of a brighter world than ours . 2 25 Flowers . Barry Cornwall . E have left behind us.
54 ÆäÀÌÁö
Caroline Matilda Kirkland. 54 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL . How like a prodigal doth Nature seem , When thou , for all thy gold , so common art ! Thou teachest me to deem More sacredly of every human heart , Since each reflects in joy its ...
Caroline Matilda Kirkland. 54 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL . How like a prodigal doth Nature seem , When thou , for all thy gold , so common art ! Thou teachest me to deem More sacredly of every human heart , Since each reflects in joy its ...
73 ÆäÀÌÁö
... darling , - The flower of fairy lore ? She seems like an ideal love , The poetry of childhood shown , And yet loved with a real love , As if she were our own ; 73 74 LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON . A younger sister for the 4.
... darling , - The flower of fairy lore ? She seems like an ideal love , The poetry of childhood shown , And yet loved with a real love , As if she were our own ; 73 74 LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON . A younger sister for the 4.
82 ÆäÀÌÁö
... seem a span ; let me thy vigils keep ' Mongst boughs pavilioned where the deer's swift leap Startles the wild bee from the fox - glove bell . But though I'll gladly trace these scenes with thee , Yet the sweet converse of an innocent ...
... seem a span ; let me thy vigils keep ' Mongst boughs pavilioned where the deer's swift leap Startles the wild bee from the fox - glove bell . But though I'll gladly trace these scenes with thee , Yet the sweet converse of an innocent ...
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ALLAN CUNNINGHAM ANDREW MARVELL Anon Autumn Barry Cornwall beauty beneath bloom blossoms blow blue boughs bowers breast breath breeze bright buds Buttercups CHARLOTTE SMITH charms cheer child clouds COUNTESS OF WINCHELSEA creeping daisies dear delight doth dream earth ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING eyes fade fair fairy fancy flowers fly away home fragrant garden gaze gentle GEORGE GASCOIGNE glad glowing golden green happy HARTLEY COLERIDGE hast hath heart heaven Heigh hills holy HYMN JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL Jeune leaf leaves LEIGH HUNT light Lily look MARY HOWITT morning Nature's night o'er perfume pleasant pleasure pride rain rose round SARAH ROBERTS shade shining showers sigh sing skies smile snow soft song sorrow soul Southey spirit Spring stars stream Summer sunny sweet tears tender thee thine thing thou art thought tree vernal violets wild winds wings Winter
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168 ÆäÀÌÁö - Winter, yelling through the troublous air, Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes, — So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, Thy gentlest influence own, And love thy favourite name.
128 ÆäÀÌÁö - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays; Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, •An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
241 ÆäÀÌÁö - I have nought that is fair?" saith he; "Have nought but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves.
42 ÆäÀÌÁö - Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less, Withdraws into its happiness: The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find ; Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds and other seas, Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade.
167 ÆäÀÌÁö - Whose numbers, stealing through thy darkening vale, May not unseemly with its stillness suit, As, musing slow, I hail Thy genial, loved return ! For when thy folding star — arising shows His paly circlet, at his warning lamp The fragrant hours, and elves Who slept in buds the day, And many a nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge. And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still, The pensive pleasures sweet Prepare thy shadowy car, Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene, Or find some ruin...
129 ÆäÀÌÁö - The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest, — In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best...
20 ÆäÀÌÁö - SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine. Stars they are, wherein we read our history, As astrologers and seers of eld ; Yet not wrapped about with awful mystery, Like the burning stars, which they beheld.
254 ÆäÀÌÁö - Then wherefore, wherefore were they made, All dyed with rainbow light, All fashioned with supremest grace Upspringing day and night : — Springing in valleys green and low. And on the mountains high, And in the silent wilderness Where no man passes by...
178 ÆäÀÌÁö - And to his robbery had annex'd thy breath, But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth A vengeful canker eat him up to death. More flowers I noted, yet I none could see But sweet or colour it had stolen from thee.
178 ÆäÀÌÁö - The forward violet thus did I chide : Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells, If not from my love's breath ? The purple pride Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed.