A Study of the Works of Alfred Lord Tennyson, Poet LaureateMacmillan, 1893 - 312 psl. |
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
A Study of the Works of Alfred Lord Tennyson, Poet Laureate Edward Campbell Tainsh Visos knygos peržiūra - 1893 |
A Study of the Works of Alfred Lord Tennyson, Poet Laureate Edward Campbell Tainsh Visos knygos peržiūra - 1893 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
answer Arthur Hallam Aylmer's Field believe bitter called canto chapter character Christian Clevedon conscience dark dead friend deeper Demeter Divine doubt dramatic dream Duke of Wellington Early Sonnets Edwin Morris emotion Enid Enoch Arden eyes faith father feel Geraint Geraint and Enid grief Guinevere happiness heart heaven Henry Hallam higher Holy Grail hope human Idylls imagination immortality King knight Lancelot later poems living Locksley Hall Lucretius lyric matter Maud mean Memoriam mind moral nature noble pain Palace of Art pass passion Pelleas perhaps Philosophical Poems picture play poet poet's poetry present preternatural Princess Queen question realised reverence Rizpah Saint Telemachus scorn seems sense Song sorrow soul spirit story supernatural supposed sweet Tennyson thee things thou thought Tiresias touch true truth utter verse Vivien voice W. C. Macready woman womanhood words
Populiarios ištraukos
181 psl. - The Danube to the Severn gave The darken'd heart that beat no more; They laid him by the pleasant shore, And in the hearing of the wave. There twice a day the Severn fills; The salt sea-water passes by, And hushes half the babbling Wye, And makes a silence in the hills.
141 psl. - I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.
131 psl. - O me, what profits it to put An idle case? If Death were seen At first as Death, Love had not been, Or been in narrowest working shut, Mere fellowship of sluggish moods, Or in his coarsest Satyr-shape Had bruised the herb and crush'd the grape, And bask'd and batten'd in the woods. xxxvi Tho...
165 psl. - Half-grown as yet, a child, and vain She cannot fight the fear of death. What is she, cut from love and faith, But some wild Pallas from the brain Of Demons ? fiery-hot to burst All barriers in her onward race For power. Let her know her place ; She is the second, not the first. A higher hand must make her mild, If all be not in vain ; and guide Her footsteps, moving side by side With wisdom, like the younger child : For she is earthly of the mind, But Wisdom heavenly of the soul.
293 psl. - I was often unable to think of external things as having external existence, and I communed with all that I saw as something not apart from, but inherent in, my own immaterial nature. Many times while going to school have I grasped at a wall or tree to recall myself from this abyss of idealism to the reality.
69 psl. - And strows her lights below, And deepens on and up! the gates Roll back, and far within For me the Heavenly Bridegroom waits, To make me pure of sin. The sabbaths of Eternity, One sabbath deep and wide A light upon the shining sea The Bridegroom with his bride!
97 psl. - And statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons when to take Occasion by the hand, and make The bounds of freedom wider yet 'By shaping some august decree, Which kept her throne unshaken still, Broad-based upon her people's will, And compass'd by the inviolate sea.
179 psl. - And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.
91 psl. - A shadow flits before me, Not thou, but like to thee : Ah Christ, that it were possible For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.
174 psl. - Nor through the questions men may try, The petty cobwebs we have spun. If e'er when faith had fallen asleep, I heard a voice, "believe no more," And heard an ever-breaking shore That tumbled in the Godless deep, A warmth within the breast would melt The freezing reason's colder part, And like a man in wrath the heart Stood up and answered, "I have felt.