The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse, 7 tomasArthur Quiller-Couch Clarendon Press, 1913 - 1023 psl. |
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2 psl.
... wind there might prevail , Was ready for a row or sail . It now lies idle on its side , Forgetful o'er the stream to glide . And yet there have been days of yore , When pretty maids their posies bore To crown its prow , its deck to trim ...
... wind there might prevail , Was ready for a row or sail . It now lies idle on its side , Forgetful o'er the stream to glide . And yet there have been days of yore , When pretty maids their posies bore To crown its prow , its deck to trim ...
10 psl.
... wind blows , Unto the land which no one knows . For all must go where no wind blows , And none can go for him who goes ; None , none return whence no one knows . Yet why should he who shrieking goes With millions , from a world of woes ...
... wind blows , Unto the land which no one knows . For all must go where no wind blows , And none can go for him who goes ; None , none return whence no one knows . Yet why should he who shrieking goes With millions , from a world of woes ...
36 psl.
... wind round the willow banks that lure him from above : O that in tears , from my rocky prison streaming , I too could glide to the bower of my love ! Ah ! where the woodbines with sleepy arms have wound 36 GEORGE DARLEY.
... wind round the willow banks that lure him from above : O that in tears , from my rocky prison streaming , I too could glide to the bower of my love ! Ah ! where the woodbines with sleepy arms have wound 36 GEORGE DARLEY.
88 psl.
... Wind stay throne ? It is gone in the night ? It is gone in the wind . of noon , like the dreams of the pomps of the earth in the wind . d upon aught in the pride of thy thee that nothing can tarry behind : housand bright actions embalm ...
... Wind stay throne ? It is gone in the night ? It is gone in the wind . of noon , like the dreams of the pomps of the earth in the wind . d upon aught in the pride of thy thee that nothing can tarry behind : housand bright actions embalm ...
89 psl.
... wind . Babylon , where is thy might ? It is gone in the wind . Who is the fortunate ? He who in anguish hath pined ! He shall rejoice when his relics are dust in the wind . Mortal , be careful with what thy best hopes are entwined : Woe ...
... wind . Babylon , where is thy might ? It is gone in the wind . Who is the fortunate ? He who in anguish hath pined ! He shall rejoice when his relics are dust in the wind . Mortal , be careful with what thy best hopes are entwined : Woe ...
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Aghadoe Amy Levy Annabel Lee ARTHUR QUILLER-COUCH beauty bel ami beneath bird blow blue Bosphorus Bouillabaisse breast breath bright Camelot dark Dark Rosaleen dead dear death deep dream earth eyes face fair fear feet flame flowers glory gold golden gone grass green grey hair hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven hills hour Judas Iscariot Karaman kiss Lady Lady of Shalott land leaves light lips live look look'd Lord Luthany MELEAGER Moira O'Neill moon morn neath never night o'er pale pass'd ROSAMUND MARRIOTT WATSON rose round sang shadow shine sigh silent sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound Spring stag stars stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thro Tirawley tree turn'd voice vrom waves weep wild wind wings wood young youth
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204 psl. - The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light shakes across the lakes, And the •wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
327 psl. - His truth is marching on. I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps ; They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps ; I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps : His day is marching on. I have read a fiery gospel writ in...
737 psl. - REQUIEM UNDER the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be ; Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
171 psl. - And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. / was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love — I and my ANNABEL LEE — .With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea...
47 psl. - Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, All that remains of her Now is pure womanly. Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny Rash and undutiful: Past all dishonour, Death has left on her Only the beautiful.
283 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...
418 psl. - Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather...
327 psl. - MINE eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord : He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored ; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword : His truth is marching on.
283 psl. - I was ever a fighter, so — one fight more, The best and the last! I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forbore, And bade me creep past.
367 psl. - The Sea of Faith Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd. But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world.