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" And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve! She leaned against the armed man, The statue of the armed knight; She stood and listened to my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope! my joy! my Genevieve! She... "
Prolusiones - Página 4
por Marlborough coll - 1867
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Imagination and Fancy: Or, Selections from the English Poets, Illustrative ...

Leigh Hunt - 1845 - 255 páginas
...hope! my joy ! my Genevieve She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story...rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace, For well she knew I could...
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Imagination and Fancy: Or, Selections from the English Poets, Illustrative ...

Leigh Hunt - 1845 - 255 páginas
...the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope! my joy ! my Genevieve I play'da sofi and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story—...rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace, For well she knew I could...
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Imagination and Fancy: Or, Selections from the English Poets, Illustrative ...

Leigh Hunt - 1845 - 345 páginas
...my lay. Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude song, that suited well...
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The Poets and Poetry of England: In the Nineteenth Century

Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1845 - 504 páginas
...my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own My hope ! my joy ! my Geneviève ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude song, that suited well...
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Chambers's Miscellany of Useful and ..., Volumen4,Tema 31 -Volumen6,Tema 59

William Chambers, Robert Chambers - 1845
...all that meets and surrounds me." Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy, my Genevieve ! She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I playeia soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving- story — An old rude song that suited well...
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The Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Prose and Verse

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1845 - 546 páginas
...crncl wrongs Befell Ihc Dark Ladie. Few Sorrows lutth she of her own, My hope, my joy, my Geneviève! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. All Ihotights, all passions, all delight», Whatever stir this mortal frame, All are but ministers...
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The Poets and Poetry of England: In the Nineteenth Century

Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1846 - 504 páginas
...my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude song, that suited well...
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The poetical and dramatic works of S.T. Coleridge 3 vols, Volumen1

Samuel Taylor [poetical works] Coleridge - 1847
...my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own. My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve I She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that...rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blusii. With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew, I could...
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Criticisms

John William Lester - 1847 - 355 páginas
...my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy, my Geuevieve ! She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that make...rude song that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With dowcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew I could...
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The Poems of S.T. Coleridge

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1848 - 372 páginas
...my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that...rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew, I could...
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