A Household Book of English Poetry, Выпуск 160Macmillan, 1870 - Всего страниц: 438 |
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Стр. 26
... grace them ; Only beauty purely loving Knows no discord ; But still moves delight , Like clear springs renewed by flowing , Ever perfect , ever in them- Selves eternal . 5 10 15 Thomas Campion . XXIV TRIUMPH OF CHARIS . See the chariot ...
... grace them ; Only beauty purely loving Knows no discord ; But still moves delight , Like clear springs renewed by flowing , Ever perfect , ever in them- Selves eternal . 5 10 15 Thomas Campion . XXIV TRIUMPH OF CHARIS . See the chariot ...
Стр. 27
And from her arched brows such a grace Sheds itself through the face , As alone there triumphs to the life All the gain , all the good of the elements ' strife . Have you seen but a bright lily grow , Before rude hands have touched it ...
And from her arched brows such a grace Sheds itself through the face , As alone there triumphs to the life All the gain , all the good of the elements ' strife . Have you seen but a bright lily grow , Before rude hands have touched it ...
Стр. 29
... grace , thou shalt in me Livelier than elsewhere Stella's image see . Sir Philip Sidney . 5 1Ο XXVIII SONNET . To yield to those I cannot but disdain , Whose face doth but entangle foolish hearts ; It is the beauty of the better parts ...
... grace , thou shalt in me Livelier than elsewhere Stella's image see . Sir Philip Sidney . 5 1Ο XXVIII SONNET . To yield to those I cannot but disdain , Whose face doth but entangle foolish hearts ; It is the beauty of the better parts ...
Стр. 32
... born , Here first I got a pledge of promised grace : But ah ! what served it to be happy so ? Sith passed pleasures double but new woe ? IO William Drummond . XXXV SONNET . Sweet spring , thou turn'st with all 32 A Household Book.
... born , Here first I got a pledge of promised grace : But ah ! what served it to be happy so ? Sith passed pleasures double but new woe ? IO William Drummond . XXXV SONNET . Sweet spring , thou turn'st with all 32 A Household Book.
Стр. 42
... grace to God , from whom all graces run . If picture move , more should the pattern please ; No shadow can with shadowed thing compare , And fairest shapes , whereon our loves do seize , But silly signs of God's high beauty are . Go ...
... grace to God , from whom all graces run . If picture move , more should the pattern please ; No shadow can with shadowed thing compare , And fairest shapes , whereon our loves do seize , But silly signs of God's high beauty are . Go ...
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Alfred Tennyson Ambrose Philips Anon beauty Ben Jonson beneath bird bonnie breath bright busk canst clouds crown dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dream e'er earth English English Poetry eyes fair fame fancy fear flowers glory golden grace grave gray green grief hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven Henry Vaughan honour hope hour John Milton King light lines live look Lord Lycidas mind morn mourn Muse ne'er never night numbers o'er pale peace Percy Bysshe Shelley poem poet poetry praise pride rose Samuel Taylor Coleridge shade shine sigh sight sing sleep smile song SONNET sorrow soul spirit spring stars sweet tears tell thee thine thou art thought trees verse voice weep wild William Blake William Shakespeare William Wordsworth wind woods Yarrow youth ΙΟ
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Стр. 248 - The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Стр. 282 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Стр. 85 - Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild. And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out 140 With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony ; That Orpheus...
Стр. 257 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Стр. 285 - What thou art we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody. Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...
Стр. 215 - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn...
Стр. 339 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Стр. 26 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Стр. 51 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate; Death lays his icy hand on kings. Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Стр. 293 - O Attic shape ! Fair attitude ! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed ; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity : Cold Pastoral ! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shall remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, ! " Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.