The Magazine of Poetry and Literary Review, 1 tomasCharles Wells Moulton C.W. Moulton, 1889 |
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iv psl.
... ARNOLD , MATTHEW . Portrait engraved by O. Lacour from a drawing by Sandys . Allen G. Bigelow . 130-211 Austerity of Poetry . A Farewell . Philomela . Urania . Too Late . Self - Deception . Persistency of Poetry . A Cau- tion to Poets ...
... ARNOLD , MATTHEW . Portrait engraved by O. Lacour from a drawing by Sandys . Allen G. Bigelow . 130-211 Austerity of Poetry . A Farewell . Philomela . Urania . Too Late . Self - Deception . Persistency of Poetry . A Cau- tion to Poets ...
210 psl.
... Western sun , In a flood of amber light , Streamed softly in at the window , where It lingered to say " Good - night . " -Good - Night . THE MATTHEW ARNOLD . HE delightful story of Tom Brown 210 THE MAGAZINE OF POETRY .
... Western sun , In a flood of amber light , Streamed softly in at the window , where It lingered to say " Good - night . " -Good - Night . THE MATTHEW ARNOLD . HE delightful story of Tom Brown 210 THE MAGAZINE OF POETRY .
211 psl.
Charles Wells Moulton. THE MATTHEW ARNOLD . HE delightful story of Tom Brown at Rugby , " by which Thomas Hughes won a unique and lasting fame , and made every school- boy his debtor for life , would hardly have been ... MATTHEW ARNOLD . 211.
Charles Wells Moulton. THE MATTHEW ARNOLD . HE delightful story of Tom Brown at Rugby , " by which Thomas Hughes won a unique and lasting fame , and made every school- boy his debtor for life , would hardly have been ... MATTHEW ARNOLD . 211.
213 psl.
... earth , he knows his story , But , before we woke on earth , we were . Long , long since , undower'd yet , our spirit Roam'd , ere birth , the treasuries of God ; Saw the gifts , the powers it might inherit , MATTHEW ARNOLD . 213.
... earth , he knows his story , But , before we woke on earth , we were . Long , long since , undower'd yet , our spirit Roam'd , ere birth , the treasuries of God ; Saw the gifts , the powers it might inherit , MATTHEW ARNOLD . 213.
215 psl.
... , then , the first , the fairest place ; And brightest is their glory's sheen , For greatest hath their labor been . -Epilogue to Lessing's Laocoon . A ARTHUR W. GUNDRY . RTHUR W. GUNDRY was born MATTHEW ARNOLD . 215.
... , then , the first , the fairest place ; And brightest is their glory's sheen , For greatest hath their labor been . -Epilogue to Lessing's Laocoon . A ARTHUR W. GUNDRY . RTHUR W. GUNDRY was born MATTHEW ARNOLD . 215.
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Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The Magazine of Poetry and Literary Review, 4 tomas Charles Wells Moulton Visos knygos peržiūra - 1892 |
The Magazine of Poetry and Literary Review, 4 tomas,4 leidimas Charles Wells Moulton Visos knygos peržiūra - 1892 |
The Magazine of Poetry and Literary Review, 3 tomas Charles Wells Moulton Visos knygos peržiūra - 1891 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
angel Atlantic Monthly beauty birds bloom blossoms blow blue born breast breath bright Century Magazine CHIG Clinton Scollard Copse Hill dark dead dear death deep dream earth eyes face fair feet flowers G. P. Putnam's Sons GEORGE HINES glad gleam glory gold golden gray hand Harper's Magazine hath hear heart heaven Henry Abbey hills Hodge the cat hope Ibid kiss land leaves life's light lips literary lives look love's Magazine Matthew Arnold morning mother neath never night o'er pain pale peace poems poet poetry prize published rest rose shadows shining shore sigh silent sing skies sleep smile song Sonnets sorrow soul spirit spring stars strong summer sweet tears tender thee thine things thou thought toil UNIV verse voice warm waves weary wild wind wings woman wonder young
Populiarios ištraukos
103 psl. - TO HELEN. Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.
21 psl. - I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journeywork of the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree-toad is a...
17 psl. - O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain ! my Captain ! rise up and hear the bells ; Rise up — for you the flag is flung — for you the bugle trills...
85 psl. - ... two souls with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one.
103 psl. - Happy the man. whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound. Content to breathe his native air. In his own ground Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire. Whose trees in summer yield him shade. In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years slide soft away, In health of body, peace of mind. Quiet by day. Sound sleep by night; study and ease. Together mixt: sweet recreation, And innocence, which most does please With meditation.
360 psl. - WHICHEVER way the wind doth blow, Some heart is glad to have it so; Then blow it east or blow it west, The wind that blows, that wind is best.
22 psl. - AFOOT and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms, Strong and content I travel the open road.
21 psl. - I have said that the soul is not more than the body, 'And I have said that the body is not more than the soul, And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's" self is, And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud...
58 psl. - So farre, so fast the eygre drave. The heart had hardly time to beat, Before a shallow seething wave Sobbed in the grasses at oure feet: The feet had hardly time to flee Before it brake against the knee.
58 psl. - And didst thou visit him no more ? Thou didst, thou didst my daughter deare ; The waters laid thee at his doore, Ere yet the early dawn was clear. Thy pretty bairns in fast embrace, The lifted sun shone on thy face, Downe drifted to thy dwelling-place.