Little Classics, 第 15 卷

Rossiter Johnson
Houghton, Mifflin, 1872


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第51页 - But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest; So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, aud this gives life to thee.
第96页 - burning bright, JL In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry ? In what distant deeps or skies Burned the fire of thine eyes ? On what wings dare he aspire ? What the hand dare seize the fire P And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of
第16页 - stately pleasure-dome decree Where Alph, the sacred river, ran, Through caverns measureless to man, Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round; And there were gardens, bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the
第214页 - life was wont to dwell, As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell, Before thee lies revealed, — Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed. Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil: Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the
第143页 - one talent which is death to hide, Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide; " Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?" I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent That murmur,
第64页 - OFT IN THE STILLY NIGHT. OFT in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me ; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone, Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken!
第106页 - Pourcst thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest, Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. In the golden lightning Of-the
第214页 - Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more. From thy dead lips a clearer note is bora Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn! While on mine ear it rings, Through the deep
第104页 - man's view. Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed Within thy beams, O Sun ? or who could find, While fly, and leaf, and insect stood revealed, That to such countless orbs thou inad'st us blind ? Why do we then shun death with anxious strife ? — If light can thus deceive, wherefore not life ? Joseph Blanco
第134页 - But our flower was in flushing When blighting was nearest. Fleet foot on the correi, Sage counsel in cumber, Red hand in the foray, How sound is thy slumber! Like the dew on the mountain, Like the foam on the river, Like the bubble on the fountain, Thou art gone, and forever. Sir Walter Scott.