The poets of the second half of the reign. The writers of vers de sociétéHenry Fitz Randolph A. D. F. Randolph & Company, 1887 |
Knygos viduje
Rezultatai 1–5 iš 32
24 psl.
... seemed A Spirit's habitation , - but the world Is curst with these blank faces , still as stone , And darkening inward . Have these dumb things Souls ? If they be tenantless , dare thou and I Christen by so sublime a name the Wind Bred ...
... seemed A Spirit's habitation , - but the world Is curst with these blank faces , still as stone , And darkening inward . Have these dumb things Souls ? If they be tenantless , dare thou and I Christen by so sublime a name the Wind Bred ...
27 psl.
... seemed , and near unto me ; And slipping flowers into her shroud was comfort . ' I put my silver mother in the darkness , And kissed her , and was solaced by her kisses , And set a stone , to mark the place , above her . ' And green ...
... seemed , and near unto me ; And slipping flowers into her shroud was comfort . ' I put my silver mother in the darkness , And kissed her , and was solaced by her kisses , And set a stone , to mark the place , above her . ' And green ...
41 psl.
... lanthorn's eye , Opened and shut again . Half he walked , and half he seemed Lifted on the cold wind ; He did not turn , for chilly hands Were pushing from behind . The first place that he came unto It was the ROBERT BUCHANAN . 4I.
... lanthorn's eye , Opened and shut again . Half he walked , and half he seemed Lifted on the cold wind ; He did not turn , for chilly hands Were pushing from behind . The first place that he came unto It was the ROBERT BUCHANAN . 4I.
52 psl.
... seemed to madden me to look on it , Until my love with hands bloody as mine , But with the woman's blood , rushed in , and eyes Rounded with horror ; and we turned to go , And left the dead alone . But happiness Still mocked me , and a ...
... seemed to madden me to look on it , Until my love with hands bloody as mine , But with the woman's blood , rushed in , and eyes Rounded with horror ; and we turned to go , And left the dead alone . But happiness Still mocked me , and a ...
56 psl.
... seemed to occupy her soul With horror and despair ; and as she passed I marked her agonized eyes . MARSYAS . FROM BOOK II . , ' HADES . ' FIRST I saw A youth who pensive leaned against the trunk Of a dark cypress , and an idle flute ...
... seemed to occupy her soul With horror and despair ; and as she passed I marked her agonized eyes . MARSYAS . FROM BOOK II . , ' HADES . ' FIRST I saw A youth who pensive leaned against the trunk Of a dark cypress , and an idle flute ...
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 - 1888 |
The poets of the second half of the reign. The writers of vers de société Henry Fitz Randolph Visos knygos peržiūra - 1887 |
The poets of the second half of the reign; The writers of vers de société Henry Fitz Randolph Visos knygos peržiūra - 1888 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Ascidian BABETTE beauty Belle Marquise beneath birds blue breast breath Calydon child CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI cold dark dawn dead dear death deep divine doth dream earth ELEANOR HAMILTON eyes face fair fall fear feet Firdausi flowers gaze Giovanni Nicotera gleam glory Godfrid golden grace grave green hair hand hast hath hear heard heart Heaven Judas Iscariot King kiss light lips little Bo-peep living lone look Lord Molly Trefusis never night Night Mail nightingale o'er old Sedan chair once Oran pain pale pass Poems pray Psamathe rest rose round Seistan Seraph shadow shining silence sing sleep smile soft Sohrab song sorrow soul star strange sweet thee thine things thou art thought thrush Ugo Bassi unto Vanity Fair VERS DE SOCIÉTÉ voice wandering waves weary weep wild wilt wind wings youth
Populiarios ištraukos
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?
17 psl. - THE sea is calm to-night. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits ; — on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone ; the cliffs of England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
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.
16 psl. - On some mild pastoral slope Emerge, and resting on the moonlit pales Freshen thy flowers as in former years With dew, or listen with enchanted ears, From the dark dingles, to the nightingales...