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1877
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
1878
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
26th
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
adeterminerUS /ə/
used before a singular noun to mean one of a group, when it is not a particular one
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
acrossprepositionUS /əˈkrɔːs/
from one side of something to the other
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
ago
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
air
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
all
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From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
AndconjunctionUS /ənd/
used to join words or parts of a sentence that go together
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
AUTHOR
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
beauxiliary verbUS /biː/
used with a past participle to form the passive, or with -ing for continuous tenses
From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
bitter
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From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
brave
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From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
breathed
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
briar
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
bright-starred
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
burgeons
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
burning
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From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
byprepositionUS /baɪ/
showing who or what does the action
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
call
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From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
cawing
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
Christ
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From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
climbing
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
clouds
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
coward
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From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
crocus-bed
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
daffodil
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
deadnounUS /dead/
an important story-specific word used in this passage
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
die
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From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
doauxiliary verbUS /duː/
used to form questions and negatives, and to give emphasis
From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
doesauxiliary verbUS /dʌz/
the form of “do” used with he, she, it, or a singular noun
From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
drooping
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
Eaten
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From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
English
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
fairnounUS /fair/
an important story-specific word used in this passage
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
feathered
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
fields
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
fire
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
flamenounUS /fleɪm/
A hot glowing body of ignited gas produced by fire.
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
flattering
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From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
FLEMING
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
flower
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
flowers
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
flutteringverbUS /ˈflʌtərɪŋ/
moving with quick light beats or trembles
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
Fond
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
foolish
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From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
forprepositionUS /fɔːr/
intended to be given to, or used by, somebody
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
forth
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From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
FRIEND
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
gaol
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From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
gentle
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
GEORGE
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
golden
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
got
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From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
grave
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From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
hadauxiliary verbUS /hæd/
the past form of “have”, used to form the past perfect
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
hasauxiliary verbUS /hæz/
the form of “have” used with he, she, it, or a singular noun
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
hepronounUS /hiː/
a man, boy, or male animal already mentioned, as the subject
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
head
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
heard
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From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
heave
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From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
himpronounUS /hɪm/
the male already mentioned, as the object of a verb or preposition
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
hisdeterminerUS /hɪz/
belonging to a man, boy, or male animal already mentioned
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
IpronounUS /aɪ/
the person speaking or writing, as the subject of the verb
From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
INprepositionUS /ɪn/
inside something, or within a place, period, or state
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
isauxiliary verbUS /ɪz/
the form of “be” used with he, she, it, or a singular noun
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
itpronounUS /ɪt/
a thing, animal, or idea already mentioned
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
Italian
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
June
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
kill
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From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
killed
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From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
kiss
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From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
larch
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
letauxiliary verbUS /let/
used to make a suggestion or a command including the speaker
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
lie
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From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
lies
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From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
littlenounUS /little/
an important story-specific word used in this passage
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
looknounUS /look/
an important story-specific word used in this passage
From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
love
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From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
loved
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From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
made
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
man
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From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
March
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
marriage-ring
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
men
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From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
methinks
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
MIRAGE
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
moon
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
MYdeterminerUS /maɪ/
belonging to the person speaking
From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
namenounUS /name/
an important story-specific word used in this passage
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
neednounUS /need/
an important story-specific word used in this passage
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
Newdigate
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
NILE
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
nodeterminerUS /noʊ/
not any; not one
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
northern
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
NOVEL
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
ofprepositionUS /ʌv/
belonging to, or connected with, somebody or something
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
onprepositionUS /ɑːn/
touching and supported by a surface
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
OrconjunctionUS /ɔːr/
used to join alternatives or possibilities
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
ourdeterminerUS /ˈaʊər/
belonging to the speaker and others
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
Oxford
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
pale
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
pitnounUS /pɪt/
A large hole in the ground, or an abyss of darkness and peril.
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
Poem
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
primrose
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
Prize
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
purple
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
race
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
RAVENNA
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
Reading
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From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
Recited
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
rooks
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
rose
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
Round-girdled
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
seems
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
shame
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From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
Sheldonian
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
sigh
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From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
silencenounUS /ˈsaɪ.ləns/
Complete absence of sound; a state of quietness and stillness.
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
singing
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
sky
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
snowdrops
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
soconjunctionUS /soʊ/
for that reason; with the result that
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
Some
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From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
Spring
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
sword
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From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
tear
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From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
teeth
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From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
thatconjunctionUS /ðæt/
used to introduce what somebody said, thought, or felt
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
thedeterminerUS /ðə/
used before a noun that is already known, already mentioned, or the only one of its kind
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
Theatre
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From this reading RAVENNA _Newdigate Prize Poem_ Recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878 * * * * * TO MY FRIEND GEORGE FLEMING AUTHOR OF ‘THE NILE NOVEL’ AND ‘MIRAGE’ _Ravenna_, _March_ 1877 _Oxford_, _March_ 1878 RAVENNA I.
There
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
ThesedeterminerUS /ðiːz/
the plural of “this”: the people or things near, or just mentioned
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
theypronounUS /ðeɪ/
the people, animals, or things already mentioned, as the subject
From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
thingnounUS /thing/
an important story-specific word used in this passage
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
thisdeterminerUS /ðɪs/
used for a person or thing that is near, or that has just been mentioned
From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
throstle
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
tillprepositionUS /tɪl/
up to a particular time
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
toparticleUS /tuː/
used before the base form of a verb to make the infinitive
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
town
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From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
uncomforted
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From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
violet's
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
wastenounUS /weɪst/
an empty, uncultivated area of land
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
winding-sheet
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
windy
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: No need to waste the foolish tear, Or heave the windy sigh: The man had killed the thing he loved, And so he had to die.
withprepositionUS /wɪð/
in the company of; together with
From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
wood-doves
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
word
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading And all men kill the thing they love, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
wretched
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading IN Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of shame, And in it lies a wretched man Eaten by teeth of flame, In a burning winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has got no name.
YEAR
Dictionary entry pending editorial verification. Tap Listen to hear the word.
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
yetconjunctionUS /jet/
but in spite of that
From this reading A YEAR ago I breathed the Italian air,— And yet, methinks this northern Spring is fair,— These fields made golden with the flower of March, The throstle singing on the feathered larch, The cawing rooks, the wood-doves fluttering by, The little clouds that race across the sky; And fair the violet’s gentle drooping head, The primrose, pale for love uncomforted, The rose that burgeons on the climbing briar, The crocus-bed, (that seems a moon of fire Round-girdled with a purple marriage-ring); And all the flowers of our English Spring, Fond snowdrops, and the bright-starred daffodil.
