Select Poems of Sidney LanierC. Scribners̕ Sons, 1899 - 97 psl. |
Knygos viduje
Rezultatai 1–5 iš 16
xviii psl.
... breath in the carriage on his return seemed each time to threaten the end . Those who heard him listened in a sort of fascinated terror , as in doubt whether the hoarded breath would suffice to the end of the hour . " After this a trip ...
... breath in the carriage on his return seemed each time to threaten the end . Those who heard him listened in a sort of fascinated terror , as in doubt whether the hoarded breath would suffice to the end of the hour . " After this a trip ...
xxxiv psl.
... breath From the heaven - side bank of the river of death , — Teach me the terms of silence , -preach me The passion of patience , -sift me , -impeach me , — And there , oh there As ye hang with your myriad palms upturned in the air ...
... breath From the heaven - side bank of the river of death , — Teach me the terms of silence , -preach me The passion of patience , -sift me , -impeach me , — And there , oh there As ye hang with your myriad palms upturned in the air ...
xlii psl.
... breathing spaces . That this detracts from clear- ness and euphony both , every reader will admit . 1 To come to the figures of speech , one must be struck at once with the delicacy and the vigor of Lanier's imagination . The poet's ...
... breathing spaces . That this detracts from clear- ness and euphony both , every reader will admit . 1 To come to the figures of speech , one must be struck at once with the delicacy and the vigor of Lanier's imagination . The poet's ...
3 psl.
... breathing clarionet Type what the poet fain would be ; For none o ' the singers ever yet Has wholly lived his minstrelsy , Or clearly sung his true , true thought , Or utterly bodied forth his life , Or out of life and song has wrought ...
... breathing clarionet Type what the poet fain would be ; For none o ' the singers ever yet Has wholly lived his minstrelsy , Or clearly sung his true , true thought , Or utterly bodied forth his life , Or out of life and song has wrought ...
6 psl.
... breathing deep and long With stress and urgence bold of prisoned spring And ecstasy of burgeoning . Now , since the dew - plashed road of morn is dry , Forth venture odors of more quality And heavenlier giving . Like Jove's locks awry ...
... breathing deep and long With stress and urgence bold of prisoned spring And ecstasy of burgeoning . Now , since the dew - plashed road of morn is dry , Forth venture odors of more quality And heavenlier giving . Like Jove's locks awry ...
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Select Poems of Sidney Lanier– Edited with an introd., notes, and ... Sidney Lanier Visos knygos peržiūra - 1895 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
agnosticism American April artist Atlanta Baltimore Bayard Taylor beauty Bibliography bird Boston Boy's Mabinogion breath Bust Century Magazine Chattahoochee chil'en child Clifford Lanier Clinton Scollard Constitution of October Corn dark death Dey's mightily Dinah doth English Novel English Verse eyes Fair Lady February flute Gates gates of sleep Georgia Gilman grace grass Hamish hath Hayne Hayne's heart heaven hills of Habersham Independent New York Introduction Jacquerie Johns Hopkins University King Arthur Lanier's poem Letter lines Literature Lord lover Mabinogion Maclean Macon Marshes of Glynn mocking-bird moral Muscadines o'er October 19 passion poet poet's poetry Power of Prayer prose rose Science of English shame Sidney Lanier sing Song soul Springs stanza Sunrise sweet Symphony ten-tined buck thee thine thou Tiger-lilies Trade tribute Uncle Dan'l valleys of Hall Ward's Memorial wife William Hayes Ward you's
Populiarios ištraukos
59 psl. - I was confirmed in this opinion, that he who would not be frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter in laudable things, ought himself to be a true poem...
73 psl. - I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee!
71 psl. - TO BLOSSOMS FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast ? Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here awhile, To blush and gently smile, And go at last.
35 psl. - High o'er the hills of Habersham, Veiling the valleys of Hall, The hickory told me manifold Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall Wrought me her shadowy self to hold, The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine, Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign, Said, Pass not, so cold, these manifold Deep shades of the hills of Habersham, These glades in the valleys of Hall.
46 psl. - INTO the woods my Master went, Clean forspent, forspent. Into the woods my Master came, Forspent with love and shame. But the olives they were not blind to Him, The little gray leaves were kind to Him : The thorn-tree had a mind to Him When into the woods He came.
34 psl. - Abide, abide, The willful waterweeds held me thrall, The laving laurel turned my tide, The ferns and the fondling grass said Stay, The dewberry dipped for to work delay, And the little reeds sighed Abide, abide. Here in the hills of Habersham, Here in the valleys of Hall.
xliv psl. - ... purpose waste in air : So waste not thou ; but come ; for all the vales Await thee; azure pillars of the hearth Arise to thee ; the children call, and I Thy shepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet; Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moan of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees.
xxxiii psl. - As the marsh-hen secretly builds on the watery sod, Behold I will build me a nest on the greatness of God : I will fly in the greatness of God as the marsh-hen flies In the freedom that fills all the space 'twixt the marsh and the skies : By so many roots as the marsh-grass sends in the sod I will heartily lay me a-hold on the greatness of God : Oh, like to the greatness of God is the greatness within The range of the marshes, the liberal marshes of Glynn.
xxviii psl. - We weave in the mills and heave in the kilns, We sieve mine-meshes under the hills, And thieve much gold from the Devil's bank tills. To relieve, O God, what manner of ills?— The beasts, they hunger, and eat, and die; And so do we, and the world's a sty; Hush, fellow-swine: why nuzzle and cry? Swinehood hath no remedy Say many men, and hasten by, Clamping the nose and blinking the eye.
40 psl. - Yon castle and lands to the two first hands that shall hook him and hold "Fast Hamish back from the brink!" — and ever she flies up the steep, And the clansmen pant, and they sweat, and they jostle and strain. But, mother, 'tis vain; but, father, 'tis vain; Stern Hamish stands bold on the brink, and dangles the child o'er the deep.