American Mystical Verse: An AnhologyIrene Louise Hunter D. Appleton, 1925 - 308 psl. |
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
amid beauty beneath Bethlehem-town bird breath Cale Young Rice Calvary Cawein Charles Wharton Stork Christ dark dawn death deep divine door doth dream dusk earth eternal eyes face faith feet flame flower forever futile peaks George Sterling green hand hath hear heaven holy James Oppenheim JOHN BANNISTER TABB JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY lamb land leaves li'l lift light lives looks Lord Macmillan Company Margaret Widdemer MARSHES OF GLYNN MIGHTY HEART moon morning mystic night o'er permission poems prayer RALPH WALDO EMERSON RHODORA Richard Realf Robert Haven Schauffler secret shade shadows Shaemas O'Sheel sheepfol silently sings sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit stars sweet tears tell Thee thine things Thou art thought thrills tide tree UNDERSONG unto wait walk WALT WHITMAN wandah wandering whisper White Comrade William wind wings woods my Master ZONA GALE
Populiarios ištraukos
xxiv psl. - ... midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
xxiii psl. - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way...
25 psl. - OFT have I seen at some cathedral door A laborer, pausing in the dust and heat, Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor Kneel to repeat his paternoster o'er ; Far off the noises of the world retreat ; The loud vociferations of the street Become an undistinguishable roar. So, as I enter here from day to day, And leave my burden at this minster gate, Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray, The tumult of the time disconsolate To inarticulate murmurs...
18 psl. - Whether she work in land or sea, Or hide underground her alchemy. Thou canst not wave thy staff in air, Or dip thy paddle in the lake, But it carves the bow of beauty there, And the ripples in rhymes the oar forsake.
32 psl. - The healing of His seamless dress Is by our beds of pain; We touch Him in life's throng and press, And we are whole again.
72 psl. - And what is mine shall know my face. Asleep, awake, by night or day, The friends I seek are seeking me; No wind can drive my bark astray,. Nor change the tide of destiny. What matter if I stand alone? I wait with joy the coming years ; My heart shall reap where it has sown, And garner up its fruit of tears.
26 psl. - As a fond mother, when the day is o'er, Leads by the hand her little child to bed, Half willing, half reluctant to be led, And leave his broken playthings on the floor, Still gazing at them through the open door, Nor wholly reassured and comforted By promises of others in their stead, Which, though more splendid, may not please him more; So Nature deals with us, and takes awny Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest...
28 psl. - And so beside the Silent Sea I wait the muffled oar; No harm from Him can come to me On ocean or on shore. I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care.
82 psl. - Inward and outward to northward and southward the beach-lines linger and curl, As a silver-wrought garment that clings to and follows the firm, sweet limbs of a girl.
76 psl. - Forspent with love and shame. But the olives they were not blind to Him; The little gray leaves were kind to Him; The thorn-tree had a mind to Him When into the woods He came. Out of the woods my Master went, And He was well content. Out of the woods my Master came, Content with death and shame. When Death and Shame would woo Him last, From under the trees they drew Him last: 'Twas on a tree they slew Him last When out of the woods He came.