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Kitaplar How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest... ile ilgili
" How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon... "
Cobb's New Sequel to the Juvenile Readers, Or, Fourth Reading Book ... - Sayfa 191
Lyman Cobb tarafından - 1845 - 240 sayfa
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English Poetry..: With Introduction, Notes and Illustrations, 41. cilt

1910
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light When I think of my own native land In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair ; Even here is a season of...
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Defoe's Robinson Crusoe

Daniel Defoe - 1911 - 370 sayfa
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the seafowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair; Even here is a season of rest,...
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The American School Readers: Primer, [First- reader], 5. kitap

Kate Forrest Oswell, Charles Benajah Gilbert - 1912
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift winged arrows of light. 45 When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But, alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea fowl is gone to her nest, 50 The beast is laid down in his lair; Even here is a season...
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Joyful Memories

1912 - 64 sayfa
...tempest itself, lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair; Even here is a season of...
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Selected Lyrics from Dryden, Collins, Gray, Cowper, and Burns

Charles Swain Thomas - 1913 - 89 sayfa
...tempest itself lags behind, 35 And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. 40 But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lab-; Even here is a season...
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The Handbook of Quotations

1913 - 250 sayfa
...slow, Through Eden took their solitary way. Milton: Paradise Lost. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. Cowper. Home, kindred, friends, and country — these Are things with which we never part; From clime...
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The Sixth Reader

Martha Adelaide Holton, Charles Madison Curry - 1914 - 314 sayfa
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. »5 When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea fowl has gone to her nest, M The beast is laid down in his lair, And I to my cabin repair....
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The Leading English Poets from Chaucer to Browning: Ed., with Introduction ...

Lucius Hudson Holt - 1915 - 918 sayfa
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, ven imag'ries Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot-grass, no And diamonded with But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair, 5o Even here is a season...
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Samuel Butler, Author of Erewhon (1835-1902): A Memoir, 1. cilt

Henry Festing Jones - 1919
...of Cowper (who was a true poet). He evidently found comfort in bed. He makes Alexander Selkirk say : But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair j Even here is a season of rest, And I to my cabin repair. There's mercy in every place — I quoted...
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A Book of British and American Verse

Henry Van Dyke, Hardin Craig, Asa Don Dickinson - 1922 - 1908 sayfa
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. • Locksley Hall But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair, Even here...
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