Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya
No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
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Pàgina 503 - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long...
Pàgina 503 - And then it started, like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons. I have heard The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Awake the god of day; and at his warning. Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, The extravagant and erring spirit hies To his confine; and of the truth herein This present object made probation.
Pàgina 103 - Smooth to the shelving brink a copious flood Rolls fair and placid; where collected all, In one impetuous torrent, down the steep It thundering shoots, and shakes the country round.
Pàgina 247 - O'erturned his infant's bed he found, With blood-stained covert rent ; And all around, the walls and ground With recent blood besprent. He called his child — no voice replied — He searched, with terror wild ; Blood, blood he found on every side, But nowhere found his child. " Hell-hound ! my child's by thee devoured," The frantic father cried ; And to the hilt his vengeful sword He plunged in Gelert's side.
Pàgina 307 - On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the poet stood ; (Loose his beard and hoary hair, Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air,) And with a master's hand and prophet's fire Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre...
Pàgina 156 - I venerate the man, whose heart is warm, Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life Coincident exhibit lucid proof That he is honest in the sacred cause.
Pàgina 247 - Llewelyn homeward hied ; When, near the portal seat, His truant Gelert he espied, Bounding his lord to greet. But, when he gain'd his castle door, Aghast the chieftain stood ; The hound all o'er was smear'd with gore His lips, his fangs ran blood.
Pàgina 246 - Oh, where does faithful Gelert roam ? the flower of all his race ! so true, so brave ! a lamb at home — a lion in the chase!
Pàgina 309 - Dash'd in a cloud of foam, it sends aloft A hoary mist, and forms a ceaseless shower. Nor can the...