Old-world Idylls and Other VersesKegan Paul, Trench, 1883 - 245 psl. |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 17
6 psl.
... knew each other , I and you ; And now , why , John , your least , least Finger - touch , Gives me enough to think a Summer through . See , for I send you Something ! There , ' tis gone ! Look in this corner , —mind you find it , John ...
... knew each other , I and you ; And now , why , John , your least , least Finger - touch , Gives me enough to think a Summer through . See , for I send you Something ! There , ' tis gone ! Look in this corner , —mind you find it , John ...
15 psl.
... " Which Urban printed . I know she thought ; I know she felt ; Perchance could sum , I doubt she spelt , She knew as little of the Celt As of the Saxon ; I know she played and sang , for yet We A GENTLEWOMAN OF THE OLD SCHOOL . 15.
... " Which Urban printed . I know she thought ; I know she felt ; Perchance could sum , I doubt she spelt , She knew as little of the Celt As of the Saxon ; I know she played and sang , for yet We A GENTLEWOMAN OF THE OLD SCHOOL . 15.
16 psl.
... knew , for sprains , what bands to choose , Could tell the sovereign wash to use For freckles , and was learned in brews As erst Medea . Yet studied little . She would read , On Sundays , " Pearson on the Creed , " Though , as I think ...
... knew , for sprains , what bands to choose , Could tell the sovereign wash to use For freckles , and was learned in brews As erst Medea . Yet studied little . She would read , On Sundays , " Pearson on the Creed , " Though , as I think ...
17 psl.
... knew her faults . Her softest word Was for the erring . If she had loved , or if she kept Some ancient memory green , or wept Over the shoulder - knot that slept I know not . Within her cuff - box , Only this I know , At sixty - five ...
... knew her faults . Her softest word Was for the erring . If she had loved , or if she kept Some ancient memory green , or wept Over the shoulder - knot that slept I know not . Within her cuff - box , Only this I know , At sixty - five ...
18 psl.
... knew Your worth as well as he , and threw Their flowers upon your coffin too , I take for granted . Their loves are lost ; but still we see Your kind and gracious memory Bloom yearly with the almond tree The Frenchman planted . THE ...
... knew Your worth as well as he , and threw Their flowers upon your coffin too , I take for granted . Their loves are lost ; but still we see Your kind and gracious memory Bloom yearly with the almond tree The Frenchman planted . THE ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Autonoë BABETTE BALLADE BARON BEAU BROCADE beauty Belle Marquise BEN JONSON bird blue Boucher bright eyes brows Caliph CHALCEDONY CIRCE comes COUNTESS Cupid's Alley dance dear DENISE DOLLY dream E'en eyes face fair fawn that seeks flowers FRANÇOIS BOUCHER FRANK grace gray grew hand heart Here's a present intended an Ode king more terrible kissed me to-day knew L'ÉTOILE laughing LAWRENCE lips London stones look Love Love's M'sieu Madam Maid Monsieur Muse myrtle twine Naught but myrtle NINETTE NINON o'er pale pipe Poets present for Rose PRINCESS Procris Pure song rhyme RONDEAU Rosina School of Coquettes seeks its mother shade sigh sing smile song Stand and Deliver stirred strange stray fawn sweet THEOCRITUS There's a tear thing thou thought thrush TRIOLETS turned Twas twixt VIEUXBOIS VILLANELLE watch weary wild and shy wind-flower yore
Populiarios ištraukos
236 psl. - ... his saints and his gilded stern-frames He had thought like an egg-shell to crack us ; .Now Howard may get to his Flaccus, And Drake to his Devon again, And Hawkins bowl rubbers to Bacchus — For where are the galleons of Spain ? Let his Majesty hang to St. James The axe that he whetted to hack us ; He must play at some lustier games Or at sea he can hope to out-thwack us ; To his mines of Peru he would pack us To tug at his bullet and chain ; Alas ! that his Greatness should lack -us ! — But...
214 psl. - Love comes back to his vacant dwelling — The old, old Love that we knew of yore ! We see him stand by the open door, With his great eyes sad, and his bosom swelling. " He makes as though in our arms repelling He fain would lie, as he lay before ; Love comes back to his vacant dwelling...
6 psl. - My Dear, I don't think that I thought of much Before we knew each other, I and you ; And now, why, John, your least, least Finger-touch Gives me enough to think a Summer through. See, for I send you something ! There...
161 psl. - 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.
219 psl. - WITH pipe and flute the rustic Pan Of old made music sweet for man ; And wonder hushed the warbling bird, And closer drew the calm-eyed herd, — The rolling river slowlier ran. Ah ! would, — ah ! would, a little span, Some air of Arcady could fan This age of ours, too seldom stirred With pipe and flute...
158 psl. - He is weary ! He shall rest for, at least, To-night ! " But at dawn, when the birds were waking, As they watched in the silent room, With the sound of a strained cord breaking, A something snapped in the gloom. 'Twas...
79 psl. - Merry and tragical ! tedious and brief ! That is, hot ice and wondrous strange snow. How shall we find the concord of this discord ? Phil. A play there is, my lord, some ten words long Which, is as brief as I have known a play ; But by ten words, my lord, it is too long, Which makes...
184 psl. - To feel delight of living, and to plough The salt-blown acres of the shoreless deep; — Better, — yea better far all these than bow Foul faces to foul earth, and yearn — as we do now ! " So they in speech unsyllabled. But She, The fair-tressed Goddess, born to be their bane, Uplifting straight her wand of ivory, Compelled them groaning to the styes again; Where they in hopeless bitterness were fain To rend the oaken woodwork as before, And tear the troughs in impotence of pain, — Not knowing,...
6 psl. - This was the matter of the note, — A long-forgot deposit, Dropped in an Indian dragon's throat, Deep in a fragrant closet, Piled with a dapper Dresden world, — Beaux, beauties, prayers, and poses, — Bonzes with squat legs undercurled, And great jars filled with roses. Ah, heart that wrote ! Ah, lips that kissed ! You had no thought or presage Into what keeping you dismissed Your simple old-world message ! A reverent one.
239 psl. - There is place and enough for the pains of prose; — • But whenever a scent from the whitethorn blows, And the jasmine-stars to the casement climb, And a Rosalind-face at the lattice shows, Then hey!