PoemsMacmillan, 1882 - Всего страниц: 370 |
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Стр. 19
... heads , And rise upon your cold white marble beds ; And looking down on the warm rosy tints Which chequer , at your feet , the illumined flints , Say What is this ? we are in bliss - forgiven- : Behold the pavement of the courts of ...
... heads , And rise upon your cold white marble beds ; And looking down on the warm rosy tints Which chequer , at your feet , the illumined flints , Say What is this ? we are in bliss - forgiven- : Behold the pavement of the courts of ...
Стр. 20
... head , on this cold balustrade ! Ere he come - ere the boat by the shining - branch'd border Of dark elms shcot round , dropping down the proud stream , Let me pause , let me strive , in myself make some order , Ere their boat - music ...
... head , on this cold balustrade ! Ere he come - ere the boat by the shining - branch'd border Of dark elms shcot round , dropping down the proud stream , Let me pause , let me strive , in myself make some order , Ere their boat - music ...
Стр. 28
... head . ' Come , ' you say , ' opinion trembles , Judgment shifts , convictions go ; Life dries up , the heart dissembles― Only , what we feel , we know . Hath your wisdom known emotions ? Will it weep our burning tears ? Hath it drunk ...
... head . ' Come , ' you say , ' opinion trembles , Judgment shifts , convictions go ; Life dries up , the heart dissembles― Only , what we feel , we know . Hath your wisdom known emotions ? Will it weep our burning tears ? Hath it drunk ...
Стр. 29
... The hands propping the sunk head , Do they gall you , the long hours , And the hungry thought , that must be fed ? Is the pleasure that is tasted Patient of a long review ? Will the fire joy hath wasted , Mused on , THE NEW SIRENS . 20 158.
... The hands propping the sunk head , Do they gall you , the long hours , And the hungry thought , that must be fed ? Is the pleasure that is tasted Patient of a long review ? Will the fire joy hath wasted , Mused on , THE NEW SIRENS . 20 158.
Стр. 32
Matthew Arnold. Can I look on your sweet faces , And your proud heads backward thrown , From this dusk of leaf - strewn places With the dumb woods and the night alone ? Yet , indeed , this flux of guesses— Mad delight , and frozen calms ...
Matthew Arnold. Can I look on your sweet faces , And your proud heads backward thrown , From this dusk of leaf - strewn places With the dumb woods and the night alone ? Yet , indeed , this flux of guesses— Mad delight , and frozen calms ...
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Æsir Afrasiab answer'd arms art thou Asgard Balder blood breast breath Breidablik bright brow Callicles calm cheek clear cold cries crown'd dark dead death deep dost doth dream earth Empedocles eyes fame fate father Fausta Fcap feel FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE gaze gloom Gods golden gone grass grave green grey grief hair hand hath head hear heard heart Heaven Hela Hela's Hermod hills Hoder hour Iacchus Iseult King light Lityerses live lonely look'd morn Niflheim night o'er Obermann Odin Odin's once Oxus pain pale pass'd Pausanias POEMS round Rustum sand sate Seistan shining sings sleep Sleipner smile Sohrab soul spake spear spirit stand stars stood stream strife sweet Tartar tears thee thine things thou art thou hast thought Tristram voice wandering waves weep wild wilt wind wood young youth
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Стр. 162 - Now the wild white horses play, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. Children dear, let us away! This way, this way! Call her once before you go — Call once yet! In a voice that she will know: "Margaret! Margaret!
Стр. 309 - ... freshness of the early world. Ah! since dark days still bring to light Man's prudence and man's fiery might, Time may restore us in his course Goethe's sage mind and Byron's force; But where will Europe's latter hour Again find Wordsworth's healing power? Others will teach us how to dare, And against fear our breast to steel ; Others will strengthen us to bear — But who, ah ! who, will make us feel? The cloud of mortal destiny, Others will front it fearlessly — But who, like him will put...
Стр. 164 - For the priest and the bell, and the holy well; For the wheel where I spun, And the blessed light of the sun!
Стр. 165 - For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden, And the gleam of her golden hair. Come away, away children; Come children, come down! The hoarse wind blows colder; Lights shine in the town.
Стр. 277 - With aching hands and bleeding feet We dig and heap, lay stone on stone ; We bear the burden and the heat Of the long day, and wish 'twere done. Not till the hours of light return, All we have built do we discern.
Стр. 298 - O born in days when wits were fresh and clear, And life ran gaily as the sparkling Thames; Before this strange disease of modern life, With its sick hurry, its divided aims, Its heads o'ertaxed, its palsied hearts, was rife — Fly hence, our contact fear!
Стр. 325 - If, in the paths of the world. Stones might have wounded thy feet, Toil or dejection have tried Thy spirit, of that we saw Nothing — to us thou wast still Cheerful, and helpful, and firm! Therefore to thee it was given "° Many to save with thyself; And, at the end of thy day, O faithful shepherd ! to come. Bringing thy sheep in thy hand.
Стр. 297 - Thou waitest for the spark from heaven! and we, Light half-believers of our casual creeds, Who never deeply felt, nor clearly will'd, Whose insight never has borne fruit in deeds, Whose vague resolves never have been fulfill'd; For whom each year we see Breeds new beginnings, disappointments new; Who hesitate and falter life away, And lose to-morrow the ground won to-day — Ah!
Стр. 203 - Dost thou to-night behold, Here, through the moonlight on this English grass, The unfriendly palace in the Thracian wild ? Dost thou again peruse With hot cheeks and sear'd eyes The too clear web, and thy dumb sister's shame ? Dost thou once more assay Thy flight, and feel come over thee, Poor fugitive, the feathery change Once more, and once more seem to make resound With love and hate, triumph and agony, Lone Daulis, and the high Cephissian vale? Listen, Eugenia — How thick the bursts come crowding...
Стр. 296 - Thou hast not lived, why should'st thou perish, so ? Thou hadst one aim, one business, one desire ; Else wert thou long since number'd with the dead ! Else hadst thou spent, like other men, thy fire ! The generations of thy peers are fled, And we ourselves shall go ; But thou possesses!