The perennial calendar, and companion to the almanack, revised and ed. [or rather written] by T. Forster |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 100.
Pàgina 24
... sweet St. Agnes ' night , Please you with the promised sight , Some of husbands , some of lovers , Which an empty dream discovers . The Eve of St. Agnes . Ah ! bitter chill it was ! The Owl , for all his feathers , was acold ; The Hare ...
... sweet St. Agnes ' night , Please you with the promised sight , Some of husbands , some of lovers , Which an empty dream discovers . The Eve of St. Agnes . Ah ! bitter chill it was ! The Owl , for all his feathers , was acold ; The Hare ...
Pàgina 35
... sweet Wort . Trench the ground , and make it ready for Spring . Dig round the roots of Trees where ablaqueation is necessary . 19 Fruits in Prime , and yet lasting . APPLES . - Kentish Pippin , Russet Pippin , Golden Pippin , French ...
... sweet Wort . Trench the ground , and make it ready for Spring . Dig round the roots of Trees where ablaqueation is necessary . 19 Fruits in Prime , and yet lasting . APPLES . - Kentish Pippin , Russet Pippin , Golden Pippin , French ...
Pàgina 39
... sweets of every flower , Before the sun shall set to them ; Calm the contending passions dire , Which on thy surface I descry , Like water struggling with the fire In combat , which of them shall die ; Thus is the soul , in Fury's car ...
... sweets of every flower , Before the sun shall set to them ; Calm the contending passions dire , Which on thy surface I descry , Like water struggling with the fire In combat , which of them shall die ; Thus is the soul , in Fury's car ...
Pàgina 43
... sweet bud which strews the way , Blest Hope , to an eternal May ! Lorn tenant of the peaceful glade , Emblem of Virtue in the shade ! Pure as the blossoms on yon thorn , Spotless as her for whom we mourn ! Of all the flowers that greet ...
... sweet bud which strews the way , Blest Hope , to an eternal May ! Lorn tenant of the peaceful glade , Emblem of Virtue in the shade ! Pure as the blossoms on yon thorn , Spotless as her for whom we mourn ! Of all the flowers that greet ...
Pàgina 51
... sweet upon its thorny tree ; And my fause luver stole my rose , But ah ! he left the thorn wi ' me . Instances of this kind of poetry , interspersed with beautiful recurrences to the happy scenes of early childhood , are too numerous ...
... sweet upon its thorny tree ; And my fause luver stole my rose , But ah ! he left the thorn wi ' me . Instances of this kind of poetry , interspersed with beautiful recurrences to the happy scenes of early childhood , are too numerous ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Perennial Calendar, and Companion to the Almanack, Revised and Ed. [Or ... Thomas Ignatius M Forster Previsualització no disponible - 2015 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
aestival Aldebaran alluded ancient appear April Arcturus August Autumn beautiful begin bells birds Bishop and Confessor blow blue Boötes bright Calendar called celebrated Ceres Christian Christmas church Climate of London clouds Cock cold colour Coltsfoot common Confessor constellation curious custom doth early earth Equiria fair FAUNA Faunus feast festival fire FLORA flowers garden goddess green head heaven Hesiod Holy honour hour Hyades HYGEIA July Jupiter King leaves light London March Martyr midheaven month Moon morning nature night November o'er observed Organ Orises Ovid particular persons Phrenology plants Pleiades poet Poppy rain reader right ascension rises Roman Calendar Romans Rome Rose round Saint Saturn says season seen sets song sort Spring stars storm Summer superstition Swallows sweet thee thou trees vernal Vesta Virgin weather wind Winter yellow
Passatges populars
Pàgina 206 - But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain; But, with the motion of all elements, Courses as swift as thought in every power, And gives to every power a double power, Above their functions and their offices.
Pàgina 164 - There entertain him all the Saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Pàgina 120 - In the most high and palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets : As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, Disasters in the sun, and the moist star, Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands, Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse...
Pàgina 172 - Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot ; And thereby hangs a tale.
Pàgina 218 - Return, Alpheus; the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues.
Pàgina 231 - Till the dappled dawn doth rise ; Then to come, in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good-morrow Through the sweetbriar, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine : While the cock with lively din Scatters the rear of darkness thin, And to the stack, or the barn-door, Stoutly struts his dames before...
Pàgina 190 - Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep : All these with ceaseless praise his works behold Both day and night.
Pàgina 51 - Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu' o
Pàgina 572 - Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone ; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone ; No flower of her kindred, No rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, Or give sigh for sigh. I'll not leave thee, thou lone one ! To pine on the stem; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them. Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead.
Pàgina 641 - Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night ' That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide...