The Works of W. E. Henley: PoemsD. Nutt, 1908 |
Turinys
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Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
a-roving Arabian Night Arthur's Seat ATTADALE BALLADE DOUBLE REFRAIN Beside the idle blackbird blackbird plays blue blue ribands clank cloud comes dark dear Death are grave dews dusk east Floated enchanted eyes face faded fate Fate's a fiddler ghost gleam gloom go a-maying gods are dead goes golden grace gray green hair hand haze heart hushed idle summer sea John Henley laugh lean Life's a dance light live loitering look Love blows lovers meadows Midsummer days Midsummer nights moon night go Nightingale pass pride quiet radiant roaring rose round sand sang shadows shine shore singing skies sleep smiled song soul spring stars stars is burning strange street sunset sunshine Sunward sway Sword teetotum Thomas Edward Brown thought Thro Thunder vacant summer days Vanity of Vanities voice W. E. HENLEY walk wanders weather wild wind wine wise wood's green words world of Age
Populiarios ištraukos
171 psl. - Or ever the knightly years were gone, With the old world to the grave, I was a king in Babylon, And you were a Christian slave.
168 psl. - A LATE lark twitters from the quiet skies ; And from the west, Where the sun, his day's work ended, Lingers as in content, There falls on the old, gray city An influence luminous and serene, A shining peace. The smoke ascends In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires Shine, and are changed. In the valley Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun, Closing...
125 psl. - Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate...
169 psl. - A LATE lark twitters from the quiet skies And from the west, Where the sun, his day's work ended, Lingers as in content, There falls on the old, gray city An influence luminous and serene, A shining peace. The smoke ascends In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires Shine and are changed In the valley Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun Closing his benediction, Sinks, and the darkening air Thrills with a sense of the triumphing night Night with her train of stars And her great gift of sleep.
118 psl. - WHAT is to come we know not. But we know That what has been was good was good to show, Better to hide, and best of all to bear.
14 psl. - The depth and malice of her sly, gray eyes ; The broad Scots tongue that flatters, scolds, defies ; The thick Scots wit that fells you like a mace. These thirty years has she been nursing here, Some of them under SYME, her hero still. Much is she worth, and even more is made of her. Patients and students hold her very dear. The doctors love her, tease her, use her skill. They say ' The Chief himself is half-afraid of her.
195 psl. - WHERE forlorn sunsets flare and fade On desolate sea and lonely sand, Out of the silence and the shade What is the voice of strange command Calling you still, as friend calls friend With love that cannot brook delay, To rise and follow the ways that wend Over the hills and far away?
12 psl. - Far in the stillness a cat Languishes loudly. A cinder Falls, and the shadows Lurch to the leap of the flame. The next man to me Turns with a moan; and the snorer, The drug like a rope at his throat, Gasps, gurgles, snorts himself free, as the night-nurse, Noiseless and strange, Her bull's eye half-lanterned in apron, (Whispering me, 'Are ye no sleepin' yet?'), Passes, list-slippered and peering, Round . . . and is gone.
81 psl. - What time the cherry-orchards blow, I loved you once in old Japan. As here you loiter, flowing-gowned And hugely sashed, with pins a-row Your quaint head as with flamelets crowned, Demure, inviting even so, When merry maids in Miyako To feel the sweet o' the year began, And green gardens to overflow, I loved you once in old Japan.
14 psl. - STAFF-NURSE : OLD STYLE THE greater masters of the commonplace, REMBRANDT and good SIR WALTER only these Could paint her all to you : experienced ease And antique liveliness and ponderous grace ; The sweet old roses of her sunken face ; The depth and malice of her sly, grey eyes ; The broad Scots tongue that flatters, scolds, defies , The thick Scots wit that fells you like a mace. These thirty years has she been nursing here, Some of them under SYME, her hero still. Much is she worth, and even...