Collected PoemsK. Paul, Trench, Trübner, 1907 - 568 psl. |
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xii psl.
... Fancy from Fontenelle Don Quixote . A Broken Sword * The Poet's Seat The Lost Elixir . : - PAGE · 279 280 . 282 284 286 287 289 291 292 . 293 295 298 MEMORIAL Verses : - A Dialogue ( Alexander Pope ) A Familiar Epistle ( William ...
... Fancy from Fontenelle Don Quixote . A Broken Sword * The Poet's Seat The Lost Elixir . : - PAGE · 279 280 . 282 284 286 287 289 291 292 . 293 295 298 MEMORIAL Verses : - A Dialogue ( Alexander Pope ) A Familiar Epistle ( William ...
43 psl.
... fancy could undo her , Pass on your way . A little while , Marquise , Be the sky silent , be the sea serene ; A pleasant passage à Sainte Guillotine ! As for Rosina , - for the quiet sleeper , Whether stone hides her , or the happy ...
... fancy could undo her , Pass on your way . A little while , Marquise , Be the sky silent , be the sea serene ; A pleasant passage à Sainte Guillotine ! As for Rosina , - for the quiet sleeper , Whether stone hides her , or the happy ...
87 psl.
... fancy , love her , - Cynics to boot . I know the children run , Seeing her come , for naught that I discover , Save that she brings the summer and the sun . LAWRENCE . Mine is a Lady , beautiful and queenly , Crowned with a sweet ...
... fancy , love her , - Cynics to boot . I know the children run , Seeing her come , for naught that I discover , Save that she brings the summer and the sun . LAWRENCE . Mine is a Lady , beautiful and queenly , Crowned with a sweet ...
116 psl.
... fancy , incomplete , Yet not indifferently planned ; Note specially the gray old Guard , Who tears his tattered coat to wrap A closer bandage round the scarred And frozen comrade in his lap ; - But , as regards the present war , - Now ...
... fancy , incomplete , Yet not indifferently planned ; Note specially the gray old Guard , Who tears his tattered coat to wrap A closer bandage round the scarred And frozen comrade in his lap ; - But , as regards the present war , - Now ...
213 psl.
... fancy a face in the frame Of the window , some high - headed damsel or dame , Be - patched and be - powdered , just set by the stair , While they raise up the lid of that old Sedan chair ! Can't you fancy Sir Plume , as beside her he ...
... fancy a face in the frame Of the window , some high - headed damsel or dame , Be - patched and be - powdered , just set by the stair , While they raise up the lid of that old Sedan chair ! Can't you fancy Sir Plume , as beside her he ...
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Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Autonoë BABETTE backswords BALLAD Bard BEAU BEAU BROCADE beauty Belle Marquise beside bird Boucher Caliph CARDENIO cheek comes Cupid's Alley Cyclops dance dead dear Dolly doubt dreams E'en eyes face fair fancy fate flowers François Boucher FRANK garden grace gray green grow hair hand hear heart JOLICŒUR knew LADY laughing light lips little Blue-Ribbons London stones look Love's LYRE Madame maid MOLIÈRE Molly Trefusis Monsieur Muse naught NINETTE NINON o'er old Sedan chair OMAR OMAR KHAYYÁM once pain pass pause perchance Phyllida pipe played POET praise Pure song quoth rhyme Rose round scarce Sedan chair sing smile song stirred surely sweet tale tears thee THEOCRITUS There's thine thing thou thought thrush to-day truth turn Twas twixt verses wait watch weary wind-flowers words yore young
Populiarios ištraukos
562 psl. - Why, Dr. Johnson, this is not so easy as you seem to think; for if you were to make little fishes talk, they would talk like WHALES.
9 psl. - HE lived in that past Georgian day, When men were less inclined to say That ' Time is Gold,' and overlay With toil their pleasure ; He held some land, and dwelt thereon, Where, I forget, the house is gone ; His Christian name, I think, was John, His surname, Leisure. Reynolds has painted him, a face Filled with a fine, old-fashioned grace, Fresh-coloured, frank, with ne'er a trace Of trouble shaded ; The eyes are blue, the hair is drest In plainest way, one hand is prest Deep...
217 psl. - Cure down the street Comes with his kind old face With his coat worn bare, and his straggling hair, And his green umbrella-case. You may see him pass by the little "Grande Place," And the tiny
149 psl. - There, at his side? Paper his hand had clutched Tight ere he died; Message or wish, may be; Smooth the folds out and see. Hardly the worst of us Here could have smiled! Only the tremulous Words of a child; Prattle, that has for stops Just a few ruddy drops. Look. She is sad to miss, Morning and night, His her dead father's kiss; Tries to be bright, Good to mamma, and sweet. That is all. "Marguerite.
67 psl. - SCENE. A small neat Room. In a high Voltaire Chair sits a white-haired old Gentleman. MONSIEUR VIEUXBOIS. BABETTE. M. VIEUXBOIS (turning querulously.) Day of my life ! Where can she get ? BABETTE ! I say ! BABETTE ! BABETTE ! ! BABETTE (entering hurriedly.) Coming, M'sieu' ! If M'sieu' speaks So loud, he wont be well for weeks ! M.
165 psl. - A GREEK GIRL WITH breath of thyme and bees that hum, Across the years you seem to come, Across the years with nymph-like head, And wind-blown brows unfilleted ; A girlish shape that slips the bud In lines of unspoiled symmetry ; A girlish shape that stirs the blood With pulse of Spring, Autonoe...
7 psl. - ... dismissed Your simple old-world message ! A reverent one. Though we to-day Distrust beliefs and powers, The artless, ageless things you say Are fresh as May's own flowers, Starring some pure primeval spring, Ere Gold had grown despotic, Ere Life was yet a selfish thing, Or Love a mere exotic ! I need not search too much to find Whose lot it was to send it, That feel upon me yet the kind, Soft hand of her who penned it ; And see, through...
5 psl. - Who will, May strive to make it better; For me, this warm old window-sill, And this old dusty letter.
492 psl. - DECAUSE you passed, and now are not,* ' Because, in some remoter day, Your sacred dust from doubtful spot Was blown of ancient airs away, Because you perished, must men say Your deeds were naught, and so profane Your lives with that cold burden ? Nay, The deeds you wrought are not in vain ! Though, it may be, above the plot That hid your once imperial clay, No greener than o'er men forgot...
472 psl. - WITH slower pen men used to write, Of old, when " letters " were " polite ; In ANNA'S, or in GEORGE'S days, They could afford to turn a phrase, Or trim a straggling theme aright. They knew not steam ; electric light Not yet had dazed their calmer sight ; They meted out both blame and praise With slower pen. Too swiftly now the Hours take flight ! What's read at morn is dead at night : Scant space have we for Art's delays, Whose breathless thought so briefly stays, We may not work ah ! would...