Living English poets [selections from their works].1883 - 325 psl. |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 24
viii psl.
... give it more than an ephemeral value . Throughout it may be said that a conviction of the enduring qualities of poems and of Poets has been allowed to outweigh a mere sense of brightness or cleverness in workmanship . The Editors have ...
... give it more than an ephemeral value . Throughout it may be said that a conviction of the enduring qualities of poems and of Poets has been allowed to outweigh a mere sense of brightness or cleverness in workmanship . The Editors have ...
10 psl.
... give birth , And bring the tempter near . Green is the grass , but wait awhile , ' Twill grow , and then will wither ; The flowrets , brightly as they smile , Shall perish altogether : The merry sun , you sure would say , It ne'er could ...
... give birth , And bring the tempter near . Green is the grass , but wait awhile , ' Twill grow , and then will wither ; The flowrets , brightly as they smile , Shall perish altogether : The merry sun , you sure would say , It ne'er could ...
53 psl.
... Give me immortality . ' Then didst thou grant mine asking with a smile , Like wealthy men who care not how they give . But thy strong Hours indignant work'd their wills , And beat me down and marr'd and wasted me , And tho ' they could ...
... Give me immortality . ' Then didst thou grant mine asking with a smile , Like wealthy men who care not how they give . But thy strong Hours indignant work'd their wills , And beat me down and marr'd and wasted me , And tho ' they could ...
61 psl.
... howd the lond ater meä thot muddles ma quoit ; Sartin - sewer I beä , thot a weänt niver give it to Joänes , Naw , nor a moänt to Robins - a niver rembles the stoäns . But summun ' ull come ater meä mayhap wi ' ALFRED TENNYSON 61.
... howd the lond ater meä thot muddles ma quoit ; Sartin - sewer I beä , thot a weänt niver give it to Joänes , Naw , nor a moänt to Robins - a niver rembles the stoäns . But summun ' ull come ater meä mayhap wi ' ALFRED TENNYSON 61.
74 psl.
... my madness , and would die To save from some slight shame one simple girl . Would die ; for sullen - seeming Death may give More life to Love than is or ever was In our low world , where yet ' tis sweet 74 LIVING ENGLISH POETS.
... my madness , and would die To save from some slight shame one simple girl . Would die ; for sullen - seeming Death may give More life to Love than is or ever was In our low world , where yet ' tis sweet 74 LIVING ENGLISH POETS.
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
BABETTE Bassarid beneath birds Born breast breath bright brow CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI dark dead death deep doth dream Drowsietown earth eyes face faint fair fear feet fire flowers Godmar golden grass green grow hair hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill hounds of spring Jehane King kiss laughed leave light lips live morn murmur night nightingale o'er Ozana pain pale powers of Pain rain rest RICHARD WATSON DIXON ROBERT WILLIAMS BUCHANAN rose round shadows shining shore silent sing SIR BORS sleep smile snow soft song sorrow soul sound stars stood stream strive strong sundew sweet thee THEOPHILE MARZIALS thine things THOMAS WOOLNER thought thro To-morrow turn turn'd unto VIEUXBOIS Vizier voice vrom wake waves weep WILLIAM JOHN COURTHOPE Wilt thou wind wings
Populiarios ištraukos
121 psl. - Thoughts hardly to be packed Into a narrow act, Fancies that broke through language and escaped; All I could never be, All men ignored in me, This I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped.
115 psl. - Rejoice we are allied To That which doth provide And not partake, effect and not receive! A spark disturbs our clod ; Nearer we hold of God Who gives, than of his tribes that take, I must believe.
117 psl. - Spite of this flesh to-day I strove, made head, gained ground upon the whole!" As the bird wings and sings, Let us cry "All good things Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now, than flesh helps soul!
113 psl. - GROW old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in his hand Who saith, "A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!
121 psl. - Fool! All that is, at all, Lasts ever, past recall; Earth changes, but thy soul and God stand sure: What entered into thee, That was, is, and shall be: Time's wheel runs back or stops: Potter and clay endure.
179 psl. - A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face ? You cannot miss that inn. Shall I meet other wayfarers at night ? Those who have gone before. Then must I knock, or call when just in sight ? They will not keep you standing at the door.
118 psl. - Youth ended, I shall try My gain or loss thereby; Leave the fire ashes, what survives is gold: And I shall weigh the same, Give life its praise or blame: Young, all lay in dispute; I shall know, being old.
163 psl. - From his late sobbing wet. And I, with moan, Kissing away his tears, left others of my own; For, on a table drawn beside his head, He had put, within his reach, A box of counters and a...
250 psl. - The sun burns sere and the rain dishevels One gaunt bleak blossom of scentless breath. Only the wind here hovers and revels In a round where life seems barren as death. Here there was laughing of old, there was weeping, Haply, of lovers none ever will know, Whose eyes went seaward a hundred sleeping Years ago. Heart handfast in heart as they stood, 'Look thither,
141 psl. - 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'ertax'd, its palsied hearts, was rife — Fly hence, our contact fear!