Representative Poems of Living Poets: American and EnglishJeannette Leonard Gilder Cassell, 1886 - 683 psl. |
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Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Representative Poems of Living Poets American and English Jeannette Leonard Gilder Visos knygos peržiūra - 1886 |
Representative Poems of Living Poets American and English Jeannette Leonard Gilder Visos knygos peržiūra - 1886 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Æsir Arcady beautiful beneath bird bloom blue blue air brave breast breath bright brow Cherub band Christ clouds cried Dæmon dark dead dear death deep Dehu Delphi dream earth Edward Dowden eyes face fair fear feet flame flowers Fortunate Isles gaze gleam glory God's gold golden grass gray hand hath hear heard heart heaven hills holy kiss knew Lahore laugh life's light lips LITTLE MURIEL live look lyre merciful bands morning neath never night Njörd o'er once pain pale poets rose round Runjeet sang shadow shining silent sing Skadi skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit stand stars stood strange sweet tears tender thee thine things thou thought tree trembling Twas twixt voice wave wild arm wind wings woman wonder word
Populiarios ištraukos
423 psl. - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays: Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, grasping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
327 psl. - The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has prest In their bloom; And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb.
424 psl. - The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives ; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings. He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest, In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best?
325 psl. - This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main; The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming Lair.
119 psl. - And the sultriness showing the lion is couched in his lair. And the meal, the rich dates yellowed over with gold dust divine, And the...
91 psl. - Therefore to whom turn I but to thee, the ineffable Name? Builder and maker, thou, of houses not made with hands! What, have fear of change from thee who art ever the same? Doubt that thy power can fill the heart that thy power expands? There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before...
423 psl. - New occasions teach new duties ; Time makes ancient good uncouth ; They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth ; Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires ! we ourselves must Pilgrims be, Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea, Nor attempt the Future's portal with the Past's blood-rusted key.
28 psl. - And anon there breaks a sigh, And anon there drops a tear, From a sorrow-clouded eye, And a heart sorrow-laden, A long, long sigh; For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden And the gleam of her golden hair. Come away, away children; Come children, come down! The hoarse wind blows coldly; Lights shine in the town.
417 psl. - Great captains, with their guns and drums, Disturb our judgment for the hour, But at last silence comes; These all are gone, and, standing like a tower, Our children shall behold his fame, The kindly- earnest, brave, foreseeing man, Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame, New birth of our new soil, the first American.
425 psl. - Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown An' peeked in thru' the winder, An' there sot Huldy all alone, 'Ith no one nigh to hender. A fireplace filled the room's one side With half a cord o' wood in There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died) To bake ye to a puddin'.