The Princess: A MedleyEdward Moxon, Dover Street, 1851 - 182 psl. |
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42 psl.
... sweetest little maid , That ever crow'd for kisses . ' ' Out upon it ! ' She answer'd , ' peace ! and why should I not play The Spartan Mother with emotion , be The Lucius Junius Brutus of my kind ? Him you 42 THE PRINCESS ;
... sweetest little maid , That ever crow'd for kisses . ' ' Out upon it ! ' She answer'd , ' peace ! and why should I not play The Spartan Mother with emotion , be The Lucius Junius Brutus of my kind ? Him you 42 THE PRINCESS ;
46 psl.
... peace , For Solomon may come to Sheba yet . ' Said Cyril ' Madam , he the wisest man Feasted the woman wisest then , in halls Of Lebanonian cedar : nor should you ( Tho ' madam you should answer , we would ask ) Less welcome find among ...
... peace , For Solomon may come to Sheba yet . ' Said Cyril ' Madam , he the wisest man Feasted the woman wisest then , in halls Of Lebanonian cedar : nor should you ( Tho ' madam you should answer , we would ask ) Less welcome find among ...
98 psl.
... they cared not ; till a clamour grew As of a new - world Babel , woman - built , And worse - confounded : high above them stood The placid marble Muses , looking peace . Not peace she look'd , the Head : but rising 98 THE PRINCESS ;
... they cared not ; till a clamour grew As of a new - world Babel , woman - built , And worse - confounded : high above them stood The placid marble Muses , looking peace . Not peace she look'd , the Head : but rising 98 THE PRINCESS ;
99 psl.
... Peace ! there are those to avenge us and they come : If not , myself were like enough , O girls , To unfurl the maiden banner of our rights , And clad in iron burst the ranks of war , Or , falling , protomartyr of our cause , Die : yet ...
... Peace ! there are those to avenge us and they come : If not , myself were like enough , O girls , To unfurl the maiden banner of our rights , And clad in iron burst the ranks of war , Or , falling , protomartyr of our cause , Die : yet ...
118 psl.
... peace , with each light air On our mail'd heads : but other thoughts than Peace Burnt in us , when we saw the embattled squares , And squadrons of the Prince , trampling the flowers With clamour : for among them rose a cry As if to ...
... peace , with each light air On our mail'd heads : but other thoughts than Peace Burnt in us , when we saw the embattled squares , And squadrons of the Prince , trampling the flowers With clamour : for among them rose a cry As if to ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
ALFRED TENNYSON answer'd Arac arms beat betwixt blood blow break breast breathe brows call'd cataract Celt child cried Cyril dark dash'd dead dear death deep dipt doubt DOVER STREET dream dropt dying earth EDWARD MOXON eyes face fair faith fall'n fancy father fear Florian flower flying grief half hall hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven hills hour king Lady Psyche land light Lilia lips lives look'd maiden maids Melissa mind moon morning mother move Muses night noble o'er once peace Prince Princess Princess Ida rapt Ring rose round sang seem'd shadow shame sleep song sorrow soul spake speak spirit spoke star stept stood strange sweet talk'd tears thee thine things thou thought thro touch'd trumpet truth turn'd unto vext voice wassail wild wild bells wind Winter's tale woman words
Populiarios ištraukos
1 psl. - I held it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.
78 psl. - THE wish, that of the living whole No life may fail beyond the grave ; Derives it not from what we have The likest God within the soul ? Are God and Nature then at strife, That Nature lends such evil dreams ? So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single life...
73 psl. - THE splendour 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 O hark, O hear!
76 psl. - Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete; That not a worm is cloven in vain; That not a moth with vain desire Is shrivelled in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another's gain.
76 psl. - ... Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
76 psl. - Oh yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood ; That nothing walks with aimless feet ; That not one life shall be destroyed, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...
186 psl. - I trust I have not wasted breath: I think we are not wholly brain, Magnetic mockeries; not in vain, Like Paul with beasts, I fought with Death; Not only cunning casts in clay: Let Science prove we are, and then What matters Science unto men, At least to me? I would not stay.
76 psl. - On lips that are for others; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; O Death in Life, the days that are no more.
69 psl. - That each, who seems a separate whole, Should move his rounds, and fusing all The skirts of self again, should fall Remerging in the general Soul, Is faith as vague as all unsweet: Eternal form shall still divide The eternal soul from all beside; And I shall know him when we meet...