The Children's Garland from the Best PoetsCoventry Patmore |
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Page 4
... . By thirty hills I hurry down , Or slip between the ridges , By twenty thorps , a little town , And half a hundred bridges . Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the The Children's Garland Answer to a Child's Question The Brook.
... . By thirty hills I hurry down , Or slip between the ridges , By twenty thorps , a little town , And half a hundred bridges . Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the The Children's Garland Answer to a Child's Question The Brook.
Page 14
... town must go ; And take a lantern , child , to light Your mother through the snow . ' " That , Father , will I gladly do ! ' Tis scarcely afternoon The minster - clock has just struck two , And yonder is the moon ! ' At this the Father ...
... town must go ; And take a lantern , child , to light Your mother through the snow . ' " That , Father , will I gladly do ! ' Tis scarcely afternoon The minster - clock has just struck two , And yonder is the moon ! ' At this the Father ...
Page 51
... town , And the little gray church on the windy shore , Then come down . She will not come though you call all day . Come away , come away . Children dear , was it yesterday We heard the sweet bells over the bay ? In the caverns where we ...
... town , And the little gray church on the windy shore , Then come down . She will not come though you call all day . Come away , come away . Children dear , was it yesterday We heard the sweet bells over the bay ? In the caverns where we ...
Page 52
... town , Through the narrow paved streets , where all was still , To the little gray church on the windy hill . From the church came a murmur of folk at their prayers , But we stood without in the cold blowing airs . We climb'd on the ...
... town , Through the narrow paved streets , where all was still , To the little gray church on the windy hill . From the church came a murmur of folk at their prayers , But we stood without in the cold blowing airs . We climb'd on the ...
Page 53
... town , Singing most joyfully . Hark what she sings : ' O joy , O joy , From the humming street , and the child with its toy , From the priest and the bell , and the holy well , From the wheel where I spun , And the blessed light of the ...
... town , Singing most joyfully . Hark what she sings : ' O joy , O joy , From the humming street , and the child with its toy , From the priest and the bell , and the holy well , From the wheel where I spun , And the blessed light of the ...
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Common terms and phrases
a-begging Abbot bird bishop bishop of Hereford blow bower brave bright cheer child cold COVENTRY PATMORE cried Crocodile dark daughter dead dear door Dora doth eyes fair fair lady fast father fear flowers FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE gallant gallant story Gilpin gold gone gray green grew hand Hark hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill horse Inchcape Inchcape Rock John John Barleycorn king lady land light Little John live Lochinvar look look'd Lord Lord Randal loud maid merry moon morning ne'er never Nevermore night o'er Old Ballad old courtier poison'd poor pray quoth Robin Hood rode rose round S. T. Coleridge shepherd sing smile song soon soul sound steed stood storm stream sweet tell thee thou thought took trees unto wild Wildgrave wind wings Witch word young
Popular passages
Page 160 - TIGER! Tiger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?
Page 2 - I COME from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally, And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges.
Page 5 - Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle. A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull, Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold.
Page 286 - WHITHER, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? , Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Page 4 - I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses ; I linger by my shingly bars ; I loiter round my cresses ; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come, and men may go, But I go on forever.
Page 331 - And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail, And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances uplifted, the trumpet unblown.
Page 123 - THE mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel ; And the former called the latter " Little Prig. Bun replied, " You are doubtless very big ; But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together, To make up a year And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I'm not so large as you, You are not so small as I, And not half so spry. I'll not deny you make A very pretty squirrel track ; Talents differ ; all is well and wisely put ; If I cannot carry forests on my back, Neither...
Page 264 - Her waggon spokes made of long spinners' legs, The cover of the wings of grasshoppers, The traces of the smallest spider's web, The collars of the moonshine's watery beams...
Page 197 - Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore: Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never — nevermore.
Page 146 - My head is twice as big as yours, They therefore needs must fit. "But let me scrape the dirt away That hangs upon your face; And stop and eat, for well you may Be in a hungry case." Said John, "It is my wedding-day, And all the world would stare, If wife should dine at Edmonton, And I should dine at Ware.