Victorian PoetryClarence Edward Andrews, Milton Oswin Percival R. G. Adams, 1924 - 602 psl. |
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3 psl.
... clear - voiced mavis dwelleth , The callow throstle lispeth , The slumbrous wave outwelleth , The babbling runnel crispeth , The hollow grot replieth Where Claribel low - lieth . MARIANA [ 1830 ] ' Mariana in the moated grange ...
... clear - voiced mavis dwelleth , The callow throstle lispeth , The slumbrous wave outwelleth , The babbling runnel crispeth , The hollow grot replieth Where Claribel low - lieth . MARIANA [ 1830 ] ' Mariana in the moated grange ...
5 psl.
... clearly , Down to tower'd Camelo And by the moon the reaper wear Piling sheaves in uplands airy , Listening ... clear That hangs before her all the year Shadows of the world appear . There she sees the highway near Winding down ...
... clearly , Down to tower'd Camelo And by the moon the reaper wear Piling sheaves in uplands airy , Listening ... clear That hangs before her all the year Shadows of the world appear . There she sees the highway near Winding down ...
6 psl.
... clear brow in sunlight glow'd ; On burnish'd hooves his war - horse trode ; From underneath his helmet flow'd His coal - black curls as on he rode , As he rode down to Camelot . From the bank and from the river He flash'd into the ...
... clear brow in sunlight glow'd ; On burnish'd hooves his war - horse trode ; From underneath his helmet flow'd His coal - black curls as on he rode , As he rode down to Camelot . From the bank and from the river He flash'd into the ...
9 psl.
... clear , or winding stair . My soul would live alone unto herself In her high palace there . And while the world runs round and round , ' I said , ' Reign thou apart , a quiet king , Still as , while Saturn whirls , his steadfast shade ...
... clear , or winding stair . My soul would live alone unto herself In her high palace there . And while the world runs round and round , ' I said , ' Reign thou apart , a quiet king , Still as , while Saturn whirls , his steadfast shade ...
10 psl.
... clear - wall'd city on the sea , Near gilded organ - pipes , her hair Wound with white roses , slept St. Cecily ; An angel look'd at her . Or thronging all one porch of Paradise , A group of Houris bow'd to see The dying Islamite , with ...
... clear - wall'd city on the sea , Near gilded organ - pipes , her hair Wound with white roses , slept St. Cecily ; An angel look'd at her . Or thronging all one porch of Paradise , A group of Houris bow'd to see The dying Islamite , with ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
ALFRED LORD TENNYSON art thou beauty blood Bouillabaisse breast breath brow BRUIN Camelot CARDENIO cheek cried dark dead dear death deep dream earth eyes face fair fair lord fear feet fire flowers gold golden hair hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hope Iseult Jacynth Jovinian King King Arthur kiss lady Lady of Shalott Lancelot land laugh Lavaine leave light lips live look lord love's Monsignor moon morning mother neath never night Nineveh o'er once Ottima pain pale pass praise Queen rose round Sebald Setebos shadow silence sing Sir Lancelot sleep smile song soul speak spirit stars stood sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thro turn voice W. S. GILBERT weep wild wind wings wonder word youth
Populiarios ištraukos
290 psl. - Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life ; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
157 psl. - How they'll greet us!' — and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets
26 psl. - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon ; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon : Sleep, my little one, sleep, my...
559 psl. - If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe — Such boastings as the Gentiles use, Or lesser breeds without the Law — Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget — lest we forget! For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard — All valiant dust that builds on dust, And guarding calls not Thee to guard. For frantic boast and foolish word, Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord! Amen.
243 psl. - FEAR death? — to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm, The post of the foe; Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, Yet the strong man must go: For the journey is done and the summit attained, And the barriers fall, Though a battle 's to fight ere the guerdon be gained, The reward of it all. I was ever a fighter, so — one fight more, The best and the last!
238 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.
378 psl. - Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more, day by day, You tell me of our future that you planned: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget...
287 psl. - I THOUGHT once how Theocritus had sung Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years, Who each one in a gracious hand appears To bear a gift for mortals, old or young : And, as I mused it in his antique tongue, I saw, in gradual vision through my tears, The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years, Those of my own life, who by turns had flung A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware, So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair ; And a voice said in mastery,...
142 psl. - Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere : 'Ah! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go? Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes? For now I see the true old times are dead, When every morning brought a noble chance, And every chance brought out a noble knight. Such times have been not since the light that led The holy Elders with the gift of myrrh. But now the whole ROUND TABLE is dissolved Which was an image of the mighty world; And I, the last, go forth companionless, And the days darken round me,...
286 psl. - we are weary, And we cannot run or leap; If we cared for any meadows, it were merely To drop down in them and sleep. Our knees tremble sorely in the stooping, We fall upon our faces, trying to go; And, underneath our heavy eyelids drooping, The reddest flower would look as pale as snow. For all day we drag our burden tiring Through the coal-dark, underground; Or all day we drive the wheels of iron In the factories, round and round.