The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse, 7 tomasArthur Quiller-Couch Clarendon Press, 1913 - 1023 psl. |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 41
ix psl.
... wonder not only at the mass ( not easily sized ) of poetry written with ardour in these less - than- a - hundred years , but at the amount of it which is excel- lent , and the height of some of that excellence ; in some exultation too ...
... wonder not only at the mass ( not easily sized ) of poetry written with ardour in these less - than- a - hundred years , but at the amount of it which is excel- lent , and the height of some of that excellence ; in some exultation too ...
31 psl.
... wonder I Beheld the immortal Bird on high Glassing the great sun in her eye . Stedfast she gazed upon his fire , -Still her destroyer and her sire ! — As if to his her soul of flame Had flown already whence it came ; Like those that sit ...
... wonder I Beheld the immortal Bird on high Glassing the great sun in her eye . Stedfast she gazed upon his fire , -Still her destroyer and her sire ! — As if to his her soul of flame Had flown already whence it came ; Like those that sit ...
154 psl.
... wonder if she thinks of them , And how the old time seems , - If ever the pines of Ramoth wood Are sounding in her dreams . I see her face , I hear her voice ; Does she remember mine ? And what to her is now the boy Who fed her father's ...
... wonder if she thinks of them , And how the old time seems , - If ever the pines of Ramoth wood Are sounding in her dreams . I see her face , I hear her voice ; Does she remember mine ? And what to her is now the boy Who fed her father's ...
164 psl.
... past On a ground of wonder cast , In the stiller waters glass'd ! Keep the human heart of thee ; Let the mortal only be Clothed in immortality . And when fall our feet as fell Thine upon the 164 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.
... past On a ground of wonder cast , In the stiller waters glass'd ! Keep the human heart of thee ; Let the mortal only be Clothed in immortality . And when fall our feet as fell Thine upon the 164 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.
179 psl.
... wonder to these garden trees ! Strange is thy pallor ! strange thy dress , Strange , above all , thy length of tress , And this all solemn silentness ! The lady sleeps ! Oh , may her sleep , Which is enduring , so be deep ! Heaven have ...
... wonder to these garden trees ! Strange is thy pallor ! strange thy dress , Strange , above all , thy length of tress , And this all solemn silentness ! The lady sleeps ! Oh , may her sleep , Which is enduring , so be deep ! Heaven have ...
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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.
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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.