Ką žmonės sako - Rašyti recenziją
Neradome recenzijų įprastose vietose.
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The poets of the second half of the reign. The writers of vers de société
Henry Fitz Randolph
Visos knygos peržiūra - 1887
arms beauty beneath birds blue Book breath bright child cold comes dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth eyes face fair faith fall fear feet flow flowers follow friends gathered gods gold golden grace grave green grow hair hand hath head hear heard heart Heaven hope hour Italy King land leaves light lines lips living look Lord meet never night NOTE o'er once pain pass play poem rest rose round seek seemed shadow shining silence sing sleep smile soft song soul sound spring stand star strange suffer summer sweet tears thee things thou thought touch turned voice wait wandering watch waters weary wild wind wings young youth
254 psl. - Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend. But is there for the night a resting-place? A roof for when the slow, dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face?
254 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 that door. Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak? Of labour you shall find the sum. Will there be beds for me and all who seek? Yea, beds for all who come.
119 psl. - All night till light is born ; And like a soul belated, In hell and heaven unmated, By cloud and mist abated Comes out of darkness morn.
120 psl. - And spring and seed and swallow Take wing for her and follow Where summer song rings hollow And flowers are put to scorn. There go the loves that wither, The old loves with wearier wings; And all dead years draw thither, And all disastrous things; Dead dreams of days forsaken, Blind buds that snows have shaken, Wild leaves that winds have taken, Red strays of ruined springs.
14 psl. - No, no, thou hast not felt the lapse of hours! For what wears out the life of mortal men? Tis that from change to change their being rolls, Tis that repeated shocks, again, again, Exhaust the energy of strongest souls And numb the elastic powers. Till having used our nerves with bliss and teen, And tired upon a thousand schemes our wit, To the just-pausing Genius we remit Our worn-out life, and are what we have been.
253 psl. - When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet: And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget.
117 psl. - For winter's rains and ruins are over, And all the season of snows and sins; The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins; And time remembered is grief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, 30 And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
18 psl. - Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; 11.