A Victorian Anthology, 1837-1895: Selections Illustrating the Editor's Critical Review of British Poetry in the Reign of Victoria, 2 tomasEdmund Clarence Stedman Riverside Press, 1895 - 4 psl. |
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343 psl.
... past , And at morn we started beside the mast , And still each ship was sailing fast ! One morn , the land appear'd ! - a speck Dim trembling betwixt sea and sky – Avoid it , cried our pilot , check The shout , restrain the longing eye ...
... past , And at morn we started beside the mast , And still each ship was sailing fast ! One morn , the land appear'd ! - a speck Dim trembling betwixt sea and sky – Avoid it , cried our pilot , check The shout , restrain the longing eye ...
344 psl.
... past the suburbs , asleep as you'd say ; Many ' s the friend there , will listen and pray " God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay- - ( Chorus ) Boot , saddle , to horse , and away ! " Forty miles off , like a roebuck at bay ...
... past the suburbs , asleep as you'd say ; Many ' s the friend there , will listen and pray " God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay- - ( Chorus ) Boot , saddle , to horse , and away ! " Forty miles off , like a roebuck at bay ...
346 psl.
... past , and past ! What's that poor Agnese doing Where they make the shutters fast ? Gray Zanobi's just a - wooing To his couch the purchas'd bride : Past we glide ! Past we glide , and past , and past ! Why ' s the Pucci Palace flaring ...
... past , and past ! What's that poor Agnese doing Where they make the shutters fast ? Gray Zanobi's just a - wooing To his couch the purchas'd bride : Past we glide ! Past we glide , and past , and past ! Why ' s the Pucci Palace flaring ...
347 psl.
... past His stylet through my back ; I reel ; And ... is it thou I feel ? They trail me , these three godless knaves , Past every church that saints and saves , Nor stop till , where the cold sea raves By Lido's wet accursed graves , They ...
... past His stylet through my back ; I reel ; And ... is it thou I feel ? They trail me , these three godless knaves , Past every church that saints and saves , Nor stop till , where the cold sea raves By Lido's wet accursed graves , They ...
348 psl.
... past self of a month ago ! Be you the bashful gallant , I will be The lady with the colder breast than snow . Now bow you , as becomes , nor touch my hand More than I touch yours when I step to land . Just say , " All thanks , Siora ...
... past self of a month ago ! Be you the bashful gallant , I will be The lady with the colder breast than snow . Now bow you , as becomes , nor touch my hand More than I touch yours when I step to land . Just say , " All thanks , Siora ...
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Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
A Victorian Anthology, 1837-1895– Selections Illustrating the Editor's ... Edmund Clarence Stedman Visos knygos peržiūra - 1895 |
A Victorian Anthology, 1837-1895– Selections Illustrating the ..., 2 tomas Edmund Clarence Stedman Visos knygos peržiūra - 1895 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Ballads Balliol College beauty beneath birds blow blue breast breath bright cold College Danny Deever dark dawn dead dear death deep Douglas Gordon dream Dublin earth edition Educated eyes face fair feet fire flame flowers Fuzzy-Wuzzy gold golden grass grave gray green H. C. Beeching hair hand hath hear hear the seas heart heaven hill J. B. B. Nichols king kiss land laugh leaves light lips live London look Lord Love's Lyrics Marie moon neath never Newdigate prize night o'er OLIVE CUSTANCE Oxford pale pass Poems poet Porthmeor prose published Pygmalion Queen rose round shadows sigh silent sing sleep smile snow soft song Sonnets soul stars strange sweet tears thee Theocritus thine things thought tide tree Trinity College verse voice volume wave wild wind wings word
Populiarios ištraukos
594 psl. - Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet, Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat; But there is neither East nor West, Border nor Breed, nor Birth, When two strong men stand face to face, though they come from the ends of the earth!
361 psl. - All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good shall exist; Not its semblance but itself; no beauty, nor good nor power Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist When eternity affirms the conception of an hour. The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard; Enough that he heard it once; we shall hear it by and by.
361 psl. - Sorrow is hard to bear, and doubt is slow to clear, Each sufferer says his say, his scheme of the weal and woe: But God has a few of us whom he whispers in the ear; The rest may reason and welcome: 'tis we musicians know.
356 psl. - I crossed a moor, with a name of its own And a certain use in the world no doubt, Yet a hand's-breadth of it shines alone 'Mid the blank miles round about...
375 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? You cannot miss that inn.
347 psl. - Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff; Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight! "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
343 psl. - For calling up that spot of joy. She had A heart — how shall I say? — too soon made glad, Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
356 psl. - There they stood, ranged along the hill-sides — met To view the last of me, a living frame For one more picture ! in a sheet of flame I saw them and I knew them all. And yet Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set And blew. " Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came.
390 psl. - THE blessed damozel leaned out From the gold bar of Heaven ; Her eyes were deeper than the depth Of waters stilled at even ; She had three lilies in her hand, And the stars in her hair were seven.
361 psl. - But here is the finger of God, a flash of the will that can, Existent behind all laws, that made them and, lo, they are! And I know not if, save in this, such gift be allowed to man, That out of three sounds he frame, not a fourth sound, but a star.