Collected PoemsK. Paul, Trench, Trübner, 1907 - 568 psl. |
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viii psl.
... " le ne puis tenir registre de ma vie par mes actions ; fortune les met trop bas : ie le tiens par mes fantasies . " -MONTAIGNE . Too low my lot for lofty deed : I pipe but fancies on a reed . CONTENTS • OLD - WORLD IDYLLS : - A Dead.
... " le ne puis tenir registre de ma vie par mes actions ; fortune les met trop bas : ie le tiens par mes fantasies . " -MONTAIGNE . Too low my lot for lofty deed : I pipe but fancies on a reed . CONTENTS • OLD - WORLD IDYLLS : - A Dead.
xiv psl.
... Pipe and Flute " " " 469 To a June Rose 99 • 470 To Daffodils " " • • 471 On the Hurry of this Time " When Burbadge Played " * A Greeting " " . 472 " " • 473 " " 474 + Léal Souvenir * After Watteau " " • 475 " " 476 44 To Ethel " When ...
... Pipe and Flute " " " 469 To a June Rose 99 • 470 To Daffodils " " • • 471 On the Hurry of this Time " When Burbadge Played " * A Greeting " " . 472 " " • 473 " " 474 + Léal Souvenir * After Watteau " " • 475 " " 476 44 To Ethel " When ...
10 psl.
... pipe in " garden trim , " And watch , about the fish tank's brim , The swallows darting . He liked the well - wheel's creaking tongue , - He liked the thrush that stopped and sung , — He liked the drone of flies among His netted peaches ...
... pipe in " garden trim , " And watch , about the fish tank's brim , The swallows darting . He liked the well - wheel's creaking tongue , - He liked the thrush that stopped and sung , — He liked the drone of flies among His netted peaches ...
38 psl.
... or after Showed like an Omphale in lion's case ; Gay as a thrush , that from the morning dew Pipes to the light its clear " Réveillez - vous , " Just a mere child with sudden ebullitions , Flashes of 38 OLD - WORLD IDYLLS.
... or after Showed like an Omphale in lion's case ; Gay as a thrush , that from the morning dew Pipes to the light its clear " Réveillez - vous , " Just a mere child with sudden ebullitions , Flashes of 38 OLD - WORLD IDYLLS.
85 psl.
... Pipe I will impart ; - This , my Beloved , marvellously mounted , Amber and foam , —a miracle of art . LAWRENCE . Lordly the gift . O Muse of many numbers , Grant me a soft alliterative song ! FRANK . Me too , O Muse ! And when the ...
... Pipe I will impart ; - This , my Beloved , marvellously mounted , Amber and foam , —a miracle of art . LAWRENCE . Lordly the gift . O Muse of many numbers , Grant me a soft alliterative song ! FRANK . Me too , O Muse ! And when the ...
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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...