PoemsChapman brothers, 1847 - 199 psl. |
Knygos viduje
Rezultatai 1–5 iš 11
28 psl.
... feel ; There my thoughts the matter roll , And solve and oft resolve the whole , And , for I'm styled Alphonse the Wise , Ye shall not fail for sound advice , Before ye want a drop of rain , Hear the sentiment of Spain . You have tried ...
... feel ; There my thoughts the matter roll , And solve and oft resolve the whole , And , for I'm styled Alphonse the Wise , Ye shall not fail for sound advice , Before ye want a drop of rain , Hear the sentiment of Spain . You have tried ...
74 psl.
... feel the ground , Ere yet arrive the wintry day When Time thy feet has bound . Accept the bounty of thy birth ; Taste the lordship of the earth . I heard and I obeyed , Assured that he who pressed the claim , Well - known , but loving ...
... feel the ground , Ere yet arrive the wintry day When Time thy feet has bound . Accept the bounty of thy birth ; Taste the lordship of the earth . I heard and I obeyed , Assured that he who pressed the claim , Well - known , but loving ...
140 psl.
... feels and seals this union . Even the fell Furies are appeased , The good applaud , the lost are eased . Love's hearts are faithful , but not fond , Bound for the just , but not beyond ; Not glad , as the low - loving herd , Of self in ...
... feels and seals this union . Even the fell Furies are appeased , The good applaud , the lost are eased . Love's hearts are faithful , but not fond , Bound for the just , but not beyond ; Not glad , as the low - loving herd , Of self in ...
150 psl.
Ralph Waldo Emerson. Let its grapes the morn salute From a nocturnal root Which feels the acrid juice Of Styx and Erebus , And turns the wo of night , By its own craft , to a more rich delight . We buy ashes for bread , We buy diluted ...
Ralph Waldo Emerson. Let its grapes the morn salute From a nocturnal root Which feels the acrid juice Of Styx and Erebus , And turns the wo of night , By its own craft , to a more rich delight . We buy ashes for bread , We buy diluted ...
184 psl.
... feel thyself no less ? As when the all - worshipped moon attracts the eye , The river , hill , stems , foliage , are obscure , Yet envies none , none are unenviable . DIRGE . KNOWS he who tills this lonely field To 184 MUSKETAQUID .
... feel thyself no less ? As when the all - worshipped moon attracts the eye , The river , hill , stems , foliage , are obscure , Yet envies none , none are unenviable . DIRGE . KNOWS he who tills this lonely field To 184 MUSKETAQUID .
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beauty better bird boughs bring CATHOLIC SERIES CHAPMAN character child Christianity cloth cloud Dæmon delight divine doth earth Edition Emerson Essays eternal eyes faith Fate feet Fichte flowers forest genius German glowing gods Goethe Hafiz hast heaven HENRY REEVE hill human JAMES MARTINEAU Jean Paul JOHANN GOTTLIEB FICHTE JOHN JAMES TAYLER JOSEPH BLANCO WHITE land LANT CARPENTER light live lover maid mind moral morning mountain muse nature nature's never Novalis o'er paper cover philosophy pine poet Post 8vo PROSPECTIVE REVIEW published RALPH WALDO EMERSON Religion religious rhyme Roman Church rose round Saadi scorn secret Shakspeare Shakspeare's shines song soul sphere Sphynx spirit stars style sweet thee THEODORE PARKER thine things Thomas Carlyle thought thy heart Translated tree truth Ulrici vols volume WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING wind wine wise wood
Populiarios ištraukos
8 psl. - The hand that rounded Peter's dome And groined the aisles of Christian Rome Wrought in a sad sincerity; Himself from God he could not free; He builded better than he knew; The conscious stone to beauty grew.
10 psl. - The word unto the prophet spoken Was writ on tables yet unbroken; The word by seers or sibyls told, In groves of oak, or fanes of gold, Still floats upon the morning wind, Still whispers to the willing mind. One accent of the Holy Ghost The heedless world hath never lost.
6 psl. - Uprose the merry Sphinx, And crouched no more in stone ; She melted into purple cloud, She silvered in the moon ; She spired into a yellow flame ; She flowered in blossoms red ; She flowed into a foaming wave ; She stood Monadnoc's head. Thorough a thousand voices Spoke the universal dame : " Who telleth one of my meanings, Is master of all I am.
37 psl. - Where are these men? Asleep beneath their grounds; And strangers, fond as they, their furrows plough. Earth laughs in flowers, to see her boastful boys Earth-proud, proud of the earth which is not theirs; Who steer the plough, but cannot steer their feet Clear of the grave.
43 psl. - Insect lover of the sun, Joy of thy dominion ! Sailor of the atmosphere ; Swimmer through the waves of air ; Voyager of light and noon ; Epicurean of June ; Wait, I prithee, till I come Within earshot of thy hum, — All without is martyrdom.
100 psl. - FORBEARANCE Hast thou named all the birds without a gun? Loved the wood-rose, and left it on its stalk? At rich men's tables eaten bread and pulse? Unarmed, faced danger with a heart of trust? And loved so well a high behavior, In man or maid, that thou from speech refrained, Nobility more nobly to repay? O, be my friend, and teach me to be thine!
40 psl. - I've been tossed like the driven foam; But now, proud world! I'm going home. Good-bye to Flattery's fawning face; To Grandeur with his wise grimace; To upstart Wealth's averted eye; To supple Office, low and high; To crowded halls, to court and street; To frozen hearts and hasting feet; To those who go, and those who come; Good-bye, proud world ! I'm going home.
186 psl. - The hyacinthine boy, for whom Morn well might break and April bloom, The gracious boy, who did adorn The world whereinto he was born, And by his countenance repay The favor of the loving Day...
90 psl. - THOUGH loath to grieve The evil time's sole patriot, I cannot leave My honied thought For the priest's cant, Or statesman's rant. If I refuse My study for their politique, Which at the best is trick, The angry Muse Puts confusion in my brain. But who is he that prates Of the culture of mankind, Of better arts and life? Go, blindworm, go, Behold the famous States Harrying Mexico With rifle and with knife!
198 psl. - BY the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world.