The poets of the second half of the reign. The writers of vers de sociétéHenry Fitz Randolph A. D. F. Randolph & Company, 1887 |
Knygos viduje
Rezultatai 1–5 iš 32
3 psl.
... arm , And showed a sign in faint vermilion points Pricked ; as a cunning workman , in Pekin , Pricks with vermilion some clear porcelain vase , An emperor's gift — at early morn he paints , And all day long , and , when night comes ...
... arm , And showed a sign in faint vermilion points Pricked ; as a cunning workman , in Pekin , Pricks with vermilion some clear porcelain vase , An emperor's gift — at early morn he paints , And all day long , and , when night comes ...
4 psl.
... arms about his neck , and kissed his lips , And with fond faltering fingers stroked his cheeks , Trying to call him back to life ; and life Came back to Rustum , and he oped his eyes , And they stood wide with horror ; and he seized In ...
... arms about his neck , and kissed his lips , And with fond faltering fingers stroked his cheeks , Trying to call him back to life ; and life Came back to Rustum , and he oped his eyes , And they stood wide with horror ; and he seized In ...
5 psl.
... arms round his son's neck , and wept aloud , And kissed him . And awe fell on both the hosts , When they saw Rustum's grief ; and Ruksh , the horse , With his head bowing to the ground and mane Sweeping the dust , came near , and in ...
... arms round his son's neck , and wept aloud , And kissed him . And awe fell on both the hosts , When they saw Rustum's grief ; and Ruksh , the horse , With his head bowing to the ground and mane Sweeping the dust , came near , and in ...
27 psl.
... arms is surely dreadful , And to feel the hollow empty world is awful , And bitter grow the silence and the distance . ' There is no space for grieving or for weeping ; No touch , no cold , no agony to strive with , And nothing but a ...
... arms is surely dreadful , And to feel the hollow empty world is awful , And bitter grow the silence and the distance . ' There is no space for grieving or for weeping ; No touch , no cold , no agony to strive with , And nothing but a ...
42 psl.
... and swift , and red . He dared not fling the body in For fear of faces dim , And arms were waved in the wild water To thrust it back to him . ' Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot Turned from the 42 POETS OF LATTER HALF OF reign .
... and swift , and red . He dared not fling the body in For fear of faces dim , And arms were waved in the wild water To thrust it back to him . ' Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot Turned from the 42 POETS OF LATTER HALF OF reign .
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The poets of the second half of the reign. The writers of vers de société Henry Fitz Randolph Visos knygos peržiūra - 1887 |
The poets of the second half of the reign; The writers of vers de société Henry Fitz Randolph Visos knygos peržiūra - 1888 |
The poets of the second half of the reign. The writers of vers de société Henry Fitz Randolph Visos knygos peržiūra - 1887 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Ascidian BABETTE beauty Belle Marquise beneath birds blue breast breath Calydon child CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI cold dark dawn dead dear death deep divine doth dream earth ELEANOR HAMILTON eyes face fair fall fear feet Firdausi flowers gaze Giovanni Nicotera gleam glory Godfrid golden grace grave green hair hand hast hath hear heard heart Heaven Judas Iscariot King kiss light lips little Bo-peep living lone look Lord Molly Trefusis never night Night Mail nightingale o'er old Sedan chair once Oran pain pale pass Poems pray Psamathe rest rose round Seistan Seraph shadow shining silence sing sleep smile soft Sohrab song sorrow soul star strange sweet thee thine things thou art thought thrush Ugo Bassi unto Vanity Fair VERS DE SOCIÉTÉ voice wandering waves weary weep wild wilt wind wings young youth
Populiarios ištraukos
254 psl. - Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend. But is there for the night a resting-place? A roof for when the slow, dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face?
17 psl. - Dover Beach"— The sea is calm to-night. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits; — on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
254 psl. - A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face? You cannot miss that inn. Shall I meet other wayfarers at night? Those who have gone before. Then must I knock, or call when just in sight? They will not keep you standing at that door. Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak? Of labour you shall find the sum. Will there be beds for me and all who seek? Yea, beds for all who come.
14 psl. - No, no, thou hast not felt the lapse of hours! For what wears out the life of mortal men? Tis that from change to change their being rolls, Tis that repeated shocks, again, again, Exhaust the energy of strongest souls And numb the elastic powers. Till having used our nerves with bliss and teen, And tired upon a thousand schemes our wit, To the just-pausing Genius we remit Our worn-out life, and are — what we have been.
253 psl. - When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet: And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget.
117 psl. - For winter's rains and ruins are over, And all the season of snows and sins; The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins; And time remembered is grief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, 30 And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
120 psl. - And spring and seed and swallow Take wing for her and follow Where summer song rings hollow And flowers are put to scorn. There go the loves that wither, The old loves with wearier wings; And all dead years draw thither, And all disastrous things; Dead dreams of days forsaken, Blind buds that snows have shaken, Wild leaves that winds have taken, Red strays of ruined springs.
17 psl. - Sophocles long ago Heard it on the Aegean, and it brought Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow Of human misery; we Find also in the sound a thought, Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
119 psl. - ... adrift, and whither They wot not who make thither; But no such winds blow hither, And no such things grow here. No growth of moor or coppice...
16 psl. - And snatch'd his rudder, and shook out more sail, And day and night held on indignantly O'er the blue Midland waters with the gale...