Selected PoemsH. Milford, Oxford University Press, 1924 - 247 psl. |
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6 psl.
... things you say Are fresh as May's own flowers , Starring some pure , primeval spring , Ere Gold had grown despotic , - Ere life was yet a selfish thing , Or Love a mere exotic ! I need not search too much to find Whose lot 6 A DEAD LETTER.
... things you say Are fresh as May's own flowers , Starring some pure , primeval spring , Ere Gold had grown despotic , - Ere life was yet a selfish thing , Or Love a mere exotic ! I need not search too much to find Whose lot 6 A DEAD LETTER.
11 psl.
... things go ; and he was grown As staid and slow - paced as his own Old hunter , Sorrel . Yet still he loved the chase , and held That no composer's score excelled The merry horn , when Sweetlip swelled Its jovial riot ; But most his ...
... things go ; and he was grown As staid and slow - paced as his own Old hunter , Sorrel . Yet still he loved the chase , and held That no composer's score excelled The merry horn , when Sweetlip swelled Its jovial riot ; But most his ...
22 psl.
... Things that Somebody ought to have done . Ensign ( of BRAGG'S ) made a terrible clangour : But for the Ladies had drawn his hanger ! Robber , of course , was " BEAU BROCADE " ; Out - spoke DOLLY the Chambermaid . Devonshire DOLLY ...
... Things that Somebody ought to have done . Ensign ( of BRAGG'S ) made a terrible clangour : But for the Ladies had drawn his hanger ! Robber , of course , was " BEAU BROCADE " ; Out - spoke DOLLY the Chambermaid . Devonshire DOLLY ...
34 psl.
... thing of puffs and patches , Made for madrigals and catches , Not for heart - wounds , but for scratches , O Marquise ! Just a pinky porcelain trifle , " Belle Marquise ! ” Wrought in rarest rose - Dubarry , Quick at verbal point and ...
... thing of puffs and patches , Made for madrigals and catches , Not for heart - wounds , but for scratches , O Marquise ! Just a pinky porcelain trifle , " Belle Marquise ! ” Wrought in rarest rose - Dubarry , Quick at verbal point and ...
44 psl.
... thing , Hid by a garden - bonnet , Passed wearily towards the swing , Paused , turned , and climbed upon it . A child of five , with eyes that were At least a decade older , A mournful mouth , and tangled hair Flung careless round her ...
... thing , Hid by a garden - bonnet , Passed wearily towards the swing , Paused , turned , and climbed upon it . A child of five , with eyes that were At least a decade older , A mournful mouth , and tangled hair Flung careless round her ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
ÆGROTUS Anacreon Anne Brontë AUSTIN DOBSON Autonoë BABETTE BALLAD BEAU BROCADE beauty Belle Marquise bird blooms the eglantine blue Brontë Caliph catch Charlotte Brontë Christopher Marlowe comes Cupid's Alley dance Dear DENISE Dolly dream E. V. LUCAS E'en edition English Essays eyes face flowers FRANK garden GEORGE the Guard gone grace gray grown hair heart horse to ride Intro Introduction John King more terrible kiss knew ladies of St last year's nest laughing LAWRENCE Letters LEWIS CAMPBELL light lips look Love's maids Megalopolis Molly Trefusis morning Muse never night old Sedan chair once pain Phyllida Pindus play PRINCESS Prose rhyme Rose round sing SIR JOHN GILBERT'S smiled song spray is white stand surely sweet tears terrible than Death THEODORE WATTS-DUNTON There's thing thou thought to-day Twas twixt Verse VIEUXBOIS VIOLA MEYNELL vols watch word
Populiarios ištraukos
187 psl. - Love comes back to his vacant dwelling — The old, old Love that we knew of yore ! We see him stand by the open door, With his great eyes sad, and his bosom swelling. " He makes as though in our arms repelling He fain would lie, as he lay before ; Love comes back to his vacant dwelling...
106 psl. - ... hence, — kings must have slaves ; kings climb to eminence over men's graves: so this man's eye is dim; throw the earth over him. What was the white you touched, there, at his side? Paper his hand had clutched tight ere he died; — message or wish, may be; — smooth the folds out and see.
61 psl. - FRANK. No, — I remain. To stay and fight a duel Seems, on the whole, the proper thing to do ; — Ah, you are strong, — I would not then be cruel, If I were you ! NELLIE.
5 psl. - Only till Sunday next, and then you'll wait Behind the White-Thorn, by the broken Stile — We can go round and catch them at the Gate, All to Ourselves, for nearly one long Mile; Dear Prue won't look, and Father he'll go on, And Sam's two Eyes are all for Cissy, John!
41 psl. - Merry and tragical ! tedious and brief ! That is, hot ice and wondrous strange snow. How shall we find the concord of this discord ? Phil. A play there is, my lord, some ten words long Which, is as brief as I have known a play ; But by ten words, my lord, it is too long, Which makes...
59 psl. - Nellie. If I were you, when ladies at the play, sir, Beckon and nod, a melodrama through, I would not turn abstractedly away, sir, If I were you! Frank. If I were you, when persons I affected, Wait for three hours to take me down to Kew, I would, at least, pretend I recollected, If I were you! Nellie. If I were you, when ladies are so lavish, Sir, as to keep me every waltz but two, I would not dance with odious Miss M'Tavish, If I were you! Frank. If I were you, who vow you cannot suffer Whiff of...
7 psl. - ... dismissed Your simple old-world message ! A reverent one. Though we to-day Distrust beliefs and powers, The artless, ageless things you say Are fresh as May's own flowers, Starring some pure primeval spring, Ere Gold had grown despotic, — Ere Life was yet a selfish thing, Or Love a mere exotic ! I need not search too much to find Whose lot it was to send it, That feel upon me yet the kind, Soft hand of her who penned it ; And see, through...
60 psl. - I would not dance with smoke-consuming Puffer, If I were you! Nellie. If I were you, I would not, sir, be bitter, Even to write the Cynical Review : — Frank.
184 psl. - A Kiss. ROSE kissed me to-day, Will she kiss me to-morrow? Let it be as it may, Rose kissed me to-day. But the pleasure gives way To a savour of sorrow : — Rose kissed me to-day, — Will she kiss me to-morrow ? Circe.
192 psl. - KING PHILIP had vaunted his claims ; He had sworn for a year he would sack us ; With an army of heathenish names He was coming to fagot and stack us; Like the thieves of the sea he would track us, And shatter our ships on the main ; But we had bold Neptune to back us, — And where are the galleons of Spain ? His carackes were christened of dames To the kirtles whereof he would tack us ; With his saints and his gilded stern-frames, He had thought like an egg-shell to crack us ; Now Howard may get...