Living English poets [selections from their works].1883 - 325 psl. |
Knygos viduje
Rezultatai 1–5 iš 14
17 psl.
... Poor Jeäne a - beät an ' left behind ; Vor she would sooner drop down dead , Than let the pitchers get a - head . ' Tis merry at the rick to zee How picks do wag , an ' hay do vlee . While woone's unlwoadèn , woone do teäke The pitches ...
... Poor Jeäne a - beät an ' left behind ; Vor she would sooner drop down dead , Than let the pitchers get a - head . ' Tis merry at the rick to zee How picks do wag , an ' hay do vlee . While woone's unlwoadèn , woone do teäke The pitches ...
105 psl.
... poor , sick , old ere your time- Nearer one whit your own sublime Than we who never have turned a rhyme ? Sing , riding's a joy ! For me , I ride . And you , great sculptor - so , you gave A score of years to Art , her slave , And ...
... poor , sick , old ere your time- Nearer one whit your own sublime Than we who never have turned a rhyme ? Sing , riding's a joy ! For me , I ride . And you , great sculptor - so , you gave A score of years to Art , her slave , And ...
111 psl.
... Poor men , God made , and all for that ! The reverence struck me ; o'er each head Religiously was hung its hat , Each coat dripped by the owner's bed , Sacred from touch : each had his berth , His bounds , his proper place of rest , Who ...
... Poor men , God made , and all for that ! The reverence struck me ; o'er each head Religiously was hung its hat , Each coat dripped by the owner's bed , Sacred from touch : each had his berth , His bounds , his proper place of rest , Who ...
118 psl.
... Poor vaunt of life indeed , Were man but formed to feed On joy , to solely seek and find and feast : Such feasting ended , then As sure an end to men ; Irks care the crop - full bird ? Frets doubt the maw - crammed beast ? Rejoice we ...
... Poor vaunt of life indeed , Were man but formed to feed On joy , to solely seek and find and feast : Such feasting ended , then As sure an end to men ; Irks care the crop - full bird ? Frets doubt the maw - crammed beast ? Rejoice we ...
137 psl.
... read tale again ! The story of that Oxford scholar poor Of shining parts and quick inventive brain , Who , tired of knocking at preferment's door , One summer morn forsook His friends , and went to learn the gipsy - MATTHEW ARNOLD 137.
... read tale again ! The story of that Oxford scholar poor Of shining parts and quick inventive brain , Who , tired of knocking at preferment's door , One summer morn forsook His friends , and went to learn the gipsy - MATTHEW ARNOLD 137.
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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!