The Chilswell Book of English Poetry |
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Page 3
4 The Echoing Green THE Sun does arise And make happy the skies ; The merry bells ring To welcome the Spring ; The skylark and thrush , The birds of the bush , Sing louder around To the bells ' cheerful sound ; While our sports shall be ...
4 The Echoing Green THE Sun does arise And make happy the skies ; The merry bells ring To welcome the Spring ; The skylark and thrush , The birds of the bush , Sing louder around To the bells ' cheerful sound ; While our sports shall be ...
Page 23
... happy groves , Where flocks have took delight . Where lambs have nibbled , silent moves The feet of angels bright ; took ] common in dialect and vulgar speech for taken . moves ] see note at end of book . Blake Unseen they pour blessing ...
... happy groves , Where flocks have took delight . Where lambs have nibbled , silent moves The feet of angels bright ; took ] common in dialect and vulgar speech for taken . moves ] see note at end of book . Blake Unseen they pour blessing ...
Page 32
... happy day Th ' old Dragon under ground In straiter limits bound , Not half so far casts his usurpèd sway ; And wroth to see his Kingdom fail , Swindges the scaly Horror of his folded tail . The Oracles are dumb ; No voice or hideous hum ...
... happy day Th ' old Dragon under ground In straiter limits bound , Not half so far casts his usurpèd sway ; And wroth to see his Kingdom fail , Swindges the scaly Horror of his folded tail . The Oracles are dumb ; No voice or hideous hum ...
Page 40
... Happy is your Grace , That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Into so quiet and so sweet a style . . 48 * The Ancient Mariner PART I It is an ancient Mariner , And he stoppeth one of three . Shakespeare . -By thy long gray beard ...
... Happy is your Grace , That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Into so quiet and so sweet a style . . 48 * The Ancient Mariner PART I It is an ancient Mariner , And he stoppeth one of three . Shakespeare . -By thy long gray beard ...
Page 50
... happy living things ! no tongue Their beauty might declare : A spring of love gush'd from my heart , And I bless'd them unaware : Sure my kind saint took pity on me , And I bless'd them unaware . ' The selfsame moment I could pray ; And ...
... happy living things ! no tongue Their beauty might declare : A spring of love gush'd from my heart , And I bless'd them unaware : Sure my kind saint took pity on me , And I bless'd them unaware . ' The selfsame moment I could pray ; And ...
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Common terms and phrases
A. E. Housman auld auld lang syne beauty beneath birds blow breath bright Burns calm Cassius cloud cold dark dead dear death deep delight doth dread dream earth echoing Green eyes fair Farewell flowers glory grave green hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Henry Newbolt hill John Anderson king Kirconnell land Laurence Binyon leaves light live lonely Lord loud Lycidas maun Milton mirth mist moon morning never night o'er pain pale peace Plymouth Hoe poem Quinquereme rest Ring round seem'd Shakespeare Shelley ship shore silent sing sleep song sorrow soul sound spirit Spring stanza stars stood stream sweet syne tears thee thine things thou art thought tree True Thomas Twas voice W. B. Yeats W. H. Davies waves weary wild wind wings woods youth
Popular passages
Page 175 - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee!
Page 163 - Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
Page 16 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Page 175 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Page 174 - MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, > Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Page 162 - THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: 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?
Page 205 - Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well...
Page 85 - For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that, The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher ranks than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that, That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Page 18 - O Captain! My Captain! O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain!
Page 26 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log, at last, dry, bald, and sere: A lily of a day, Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall, and die that night; It was the plant, and flower of light. In small proportions, we just beauties see: And in short measures, life may perfect be.