Under Green Leaves

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第30页 - 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.
第96页 - Darkling I listen; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath...
第14页 - tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopped and played, Their thoughts I cannot measure: — But the least motion which they made It seemed a thrill of pleasure. The budding twigs spread out their fan, To catch the breezy air; And I must think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there.
第94页 - 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...
第84页 - Evening IF AUGHT of oaten stop or pastoral song May hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear Like thy own solemn springs, Thy springs, and dying gales...
第26页 - The schoolboy, wandering through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts, the new voice of spring to hear, And imitates thy lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom, Thou fliest thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another spring to hail. Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year...
第20页 - Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.
第75页 - ... lie On the mountain's lonely van, Beyond the noise of busy man ; Painting fair the form of things, While the yellow linnet sings ; Or the tuneful nightingale Charms the forest with her tale ; Come, with all thy various hues, Come, and aid thy sister Muse ; Now, while Phoebus riding high Gives lustre to the land and sky ! Grongar Hill invites my song, Draw the...
第17页 - DAFFODILS FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon : As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song ; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along.
第5页 - Under the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither; Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.

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