The Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson ...Estes and Lauriat, 1895 |
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson, 5 tomas Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson Visos knygos peržiūra - 1896 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Annie Annie Lee Annie's answer'd babe beat bells blessing blood break breast breath call'd calm churl cloud Danube dark darken'd dawn dead dear Death deep doubt dream dust earth Enoch Enoch Arden ev'n evermore eyes face fair faith fancy fear flower gloom golden hour grave grief hand happy happy days harp hath haunt hear heard heart heaven hills hope Hope and Fear Hosanna hour human knew land leave light little wife lives lonely look look'd LORD TENNYSON lying lip marge mind Miriam Lane morning move Muse night o'er once peace Philip play'd rills Ring round sail seem'd shadow shore silent sing sleep song sorrow soul spirit star sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thro touch'd truth unto voice weep whisper wife wild wild bells winds wood words yonder
Populiarios ištraukos
175 psl. - Perplext in faith, but pure in deeds, At last he beat his music out. There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds.
88 psl. - I envy not in any moods The captive void of noble rage, The linnet born within the cage, That never knew the summer woods : I envy not the beast that takes His license in the field of time...
53 psl. - Thou wilt not leave us in the dust: Thou madest man, he knows not why, He thinks he was not made to die; And thou hast made him: thou art just.
120 psl. - So careful of the type ?' but no. From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries, 'A thousand types are gone : I care for nothing, all shall go. 'Thou makest thine appeal to me : I bring to life, I bring to death: The spirit does but mean the breath : I know no more.
54 psl. - Our little systems have their day; They have their day and cease to be; They are but broken lights of thee, And thou, O Lord, art more than they.
56 psl. - I HELD it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on steppingstones Of their dead selves to higher things.
119 psl. - I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope through darkness up to God. I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope. And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.
172 psl. - For underfoot the herb was dry ; And genial warmth ; and o'er the sky The silvery haze of summer drawn ; And calm that let the tapers burn Unwavering : not a cricket...
128 psl. - Who breaks his birth's invidious bar, And grasps the skirts of happy chance, And breasts the blows of circumstance, And grapples with his evil star ; Who makes by force his merit known And lives to clutch the golden keys, To mould a mighty state's decrees, And shape the whisper of the throne ; And moving up from high to higher, Becomes on Fortune's crowning slope The pillar of a people's hope, The center of a world's desire ; Vet feels, as in a pensive dream.
191 psl. - Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.