Songs of Innocence and Experience: with Other PoemsBasil Montagu Pickering, 1866 - 108 หน้า |
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ผลการค้นหา 1 - 5 จาก 14
หน้า v
... Lost The Little Boy Found 6 8 9 11 12 14 15 A Cradle Song The Divine Image Holy Thursday Night 16 18 20 22 Spring Nurse's Song Infant Joy A Dream Laughing Song The School - boy 25 27 28 29 31 32 On Another's Sorrow 34 The Voice of the ...
... Lost The Little Boy Found 6 8 9 11 12 14 15 A Cradle Song The Divine Image Holy Thursday Night 16 18 20 22 Spring Nurse's Song Infant Joy A Dream Laughing Song The School - boy 25 27 28 29 31 32 On Another's Sorrow 34 The Voice of the ...
หน้า vi
... Lost Holy Thursday The Angel The Little Girl Lost The Little Girl Found London 55 57 58 59 62 65 To Tirzah The Human Abstract 66 67 The Chimney Sweeper . A Poison - tree 69 70 A Little Girl Lost A Divine Image The Little Vagabond 71 73 ...
... Lost Holy Thursday The Angel The Little Girl Lost The Little Girl Found London 55 57 58 59 62 65 To Tirzah The Human Abstract 66 67 The Chimney Sweeper . A Poison - tree 69 70 A Little Girl Lost A Divine Image The Little Vagabond 71 73 ...
หน้า 11
... , A happy blossom Hears you sobbing , sobbing , Pretty , pretty robin , Near my bosom . THE CHIMNEY - SWEEPER . HEN my mother died I INNOCENCE . 11 The Blossom The Chimney-Sweeper The Little Boy Lost The Little Boy Found 6 8 9.
... , A happy blossom Hears you sobbing , sobbing , Pretty , pretty robin , Near my bosom . THE CHIMNEY - SWEEPER . HEN my mother died I INNOCENCE . 11 The Blossom The Chimney-Sweeper The Little Boy Lost The Little Boy Found 6 8 9.
หน้า 13
... we rose in the dark , And got with our bags and our brushes to work . Tho ' the morning was cold Tom was happy and warm : So if all do their duty they need not fear harm . THE LITTLE BOY LOST . ATHER ! father ! where INNOCENCE . 13.
... we rose in the dark , And got with our bags and our brushes to work . Tho ' the morning was cold Tom was happy and warm : So if all do their duty they need not fear harm . THE LITTLE BOY LOST . ATHER ! father ! where INNOCENCE . 13.
หน้า 14
with Other Poems William Blake. THE LITTLE BOY LOST . ATHER ! father ! where are you going ? FAT O , do not walk so fast . Speak , father , speak to your little boy , Or else I shall be lost . The night was dark , no father was there ...
with Other Poems William Blake. THE LITTLE BOY LOST . ATHER ! father ! where are you going ? FAT O , do not walk so fast . Speak , father , speak to your little boy , Or else I shall be lost . The night was dark , no father was there ...
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Allan Cunningham angel of Providence another's arm'd BASIL MONTAGU PICKERING beauty beguiles birds black black cloud blossoms bore bright CATULLUS Charles Lamb child Cloth deep desert wild devil Dost dread echoing green edition Engraved Title pub eyes face fairy skipp'd Fcap fear fill'd fled flower Frontispiece and Engraved frowning gold golden grave grief hand happy hear heaven HOLY THURSDAY human dress infant small Innocence and Experience kiss Land of Dreams laugh LITTLE BOY LOST Little lamb Long John Brown Lyca Lyrical Ballads maiden Mary Bell mercy Merrily merry mild morning never night o'er pale pipe pity pleasant poor Portrait and Engraved pretty rose-tree PROPERTIUS round shine sigh sing SONGS OF EXPERIENCE Songs of Innocence sorrow soul Stothard Sweet joy sweet love Sweet smiles tears tender Tennyson thee thou TIBULLUS tigers trembling uncut vols WALTON'S wandering wept William Blake William Bond Wordsworth youth
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หน้า xv - I'll tell thee: He is called by thy name, For He calls Himself a Lamb. He is meek, and He is mild; He became a little child. I a child, and thou a lamb, We are called by His name. Little Lamb, God bless thee!
หน้า 20 - THE sun descending in the west, The evening star does shine ; The birds are silent in their nest, And I must seek for mine. The moon, like a flower In heaven's high bower, With silent delight, Sits and smiles on the night.
หน้า 63 - I wander thro' each charter'd street Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man, In every Infant's cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forg'd manacles I hear: How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every black'ning Church appalls, And the hapless Soldier's sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls; But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot's curse Blasts the new born Infant's tear.
หน้า 1 - Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me : — ' Pipe a song about a lamb :
หน้า 48 - I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this chapel were shut, And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door; So I turned to the Garden of Love, That so many sweet flowers bore.
หน้า xv - Softest clothing, woolly, bright ; Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice? Little lamb, who made thee ? Dost thou know who made thee ? Little...
หน้า 51 - 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 ? And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
หน้า 52 - Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee?
หน้า 18 - Thames waters flow. O what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London town! Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own. The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands. Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song, Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among: Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor. Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.
หน้า 105 - The door of death is made of gold, That mortal eyes cannot behold ; But when the mortal eyes are closed, And cold and pale the limbs reposed, The soul awakes, and wondering sees In her mild hand the golden keys.