Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Alfred Cochrane beauty Ben Jonson Bouillabaisse brown chair Charles Lamb Christmas claret clay dear delights door doth drink earth ev'ry eyes face fair fancy fire George Meredith give grace grey hand happy hath hear heart heaven Horace Walpole J. R. Lowell Jack John Johnson joys knew lady laughed light lips live London look Lord master merry mind mirth morning mortal never night o'er once pipe play pleasure poet Richard Lovelace round Samuel Pepys Shakespeare sing Sir Roger smile smoke tobacco song soul speak spirit Street sweet T. E. Brown tavern tears tell thee There's thine things thou thought tree turn twas voice W. E. Henley W. M. Thackeray walk William Hazlitt William Makepeace Thackeray wine winter wonder worth Xavier Marmier young youth
327 psl. - My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires, and more slow; An hundred years should go to praise Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze; Two hundred to adore each breast; But thirty thousand to the rest; An age at least to every part, And the last age should show your heart; For, Lady, you deserve this state, Nor would I love at lower rate. But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near; And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity.
325 psl. - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
321 psl. - DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
243 psl. - I saw him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets, And he looks at all he meets Sad and wan, And he shakes his feeble head, That it seems as if he said, "They are gone.
371 psl. - Tis hard to part when friends are dear Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear ; Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time; Say not Good Night, but in some brighter clime Bid me Good Morning.
370 psl. - THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate, Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
70 psl. - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet.
26 psl. - THEY told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead, They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed. I wept as I remember'd how often you and I Had tired the sun with talking and sent him down the sky...
327 psl. - Deserts of vast eternity. Thy beauty shall no more be found, Nor in thy marble vault shall sound My echoing song ; then worms shall try That long-preserved virginity, And your quaint honour turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust. The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace.