Old-world Idylls, and Other VersesK. Paul, Trench, Trübner & Company, Limited, 1883 - 245 psl. |
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96 psl.
... POET . Madam , -whose uncensorious eye Grows gracious over certain pages , Wherein the Jester's maxims lie , It may be , thicker than the Sage's— I hear but to obey , and could Mere wish of mine the pleasure do you , Some verse as ...
... POET . Madam , -whose uncensorious eye Grows gracious over certain pages , Wherein the Jester's maxims lie , It may be , thicker than the Sage's— I hear but to obey , and could Mere wish of mine the pleasure do you , Some verse as ...
97 psl.
... poet Is just as prosy as the rest , But cannot comfortably show it . You thought , no doubt , the garden - scent Brings back some brief - winged bright sensation Of love that came and love that went , -- Some fragrance of a lost ...
... poet Is just as prosy as the rest , But cannot comfortably show it . You thought , no doubt , the garden - scent Brings back some brief - winged bright sensation Of love that came and love that went , -- Some fragrance of a lost ...
169 psl.
... , So suddenly , but now . And one poor POET stopped and thought- How many a lonely lay That bird had sung ere fortune brought It near the common way , Where the crowd hears the note . What birds must A Nightingale in Kensington Gardens.
... , So suddenly , but now . And one poor POET stopped and thought- How many a lonely lay That bird had sung ere fortune brought It near the common way , Where the crowd hears the note . What birds must A Nightingale in Kensington Gardens.
170 psl.
... belong ! But " Art for Art ! " the Poet said , " " Tis still the Nightingale , That sings where no men's feet will tread , And praise and audience fail . " MISCELLANEOUS PIECES . A SONG OF THE FOUR SEASONS . 170 VIGNETTES IN RHYME .
... belong ! But " Art for Art ! " the Poet said , " " Tis still the Nightingale , That sings where no men's feet will tread , And praise and audience fail . " MISCELLANEOUS PIECES . A SONG OF THE FOUR SEASONS . 170 VIGNETTES IN RHYME .
206 psl.
... Poet , then , forbear The loosely - sandalled verse , Choose rather thou to wear The buskin - strait and terse ; Leave to the tiro's hand The limp and shapeless style ; See that thy form demand The labour of the file . Sculptor , do ...
... Poet , then , forbear The loosely - sandalled verse , Choose rather thou to wear The buskin - strait and terse ; Leave to the tiro's hand The limp and shapeless style ; See that thy form demand The labour of the file . Sculptor , do ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Autonoë BABETTE BALLAD BEAU BROCADE beauty Belle Marquise BEN JONSON bird blue Boucher bright eyes brow Caliph CHALCEDONY CIRCE comes COUNTESS Cupid's Alley dance dear DENISE DOLLY dream E'en eyes face fair fawn that seeks flowers FRANÇOIS BOUCHER FRANK grace gray grew heart Here's a present intended an Ode king more terrible kissed me to-day knew L'ÉTOILE last year's nest laughing LAWRENCE lips London stones look Love Love's M'sieu Madam Maid Monsieur Muse myrtle twine Naught but myrtle NINETTE NINON o'er pale pipe Poets poor present for Rose PRINCESS Procris Pure song rhyme RONDEAU Rosina School of Coquettes seeks its mother shade sigh sing smile song Stand and Deliver stirred strange stray fawn sweet THEOCRITUS There's a tear thing thou thought thrush TRIOLETS turned Twas twixt VIEUXBOIS VILLANELLE watch weary wild and shy wind-flower yore
Populiarios ištraukos
236 psl. - ... his saints and his gilded stern-frames He had thought like an egg-shell to crack us ; .Now Howard may get to his Flaccus, And Drake to his Devon again, And Hawkins bowl rubbers to Bacchus — For where are the galleons of Spain ? Let his Majesty hang to St. James The axe that he whetted to hack us ; He must play at some lustier games Or at sea he can hope to out-thwack us ; To his mines of Peru he would pack us To tug at his bullet and chain ; Alas ! that his Greatness should lack -us ! — But...
214 psl. - Love comes back to his vacant dwelling — The old, old Love that we knew of yore ! We see him stand by the open door, With his great eyes sad, and his bosom swelling. " He makes as though in our arms repelling He fain would lie, as he lay before ; Love comes back to his vacant dwelling...
104 psl. - My book in turn avers (No author's name is stated) That sometimes those Philosophers Are sadly mis-translated." " But hear, — the next's in stronger style : The Cynic School asserted That two red lips which part and smile May not be controverted ! " She smiled once more — "My book, I find, Observes some modern doctors Would make the Cynics out a .kind Of album-verse concoctors." Then I— "Why not? ' Ephesian law, No less than time's tradition, Enjoined fair speech on all who saw Diana's apparition.
4 psl. - The fresher modern traces ; For idle mallet, hoop, and ball Upon the lawn were lying ; A magazine, a tumbled shawl, Round which the swifts were flying ; And, tossed beside the Guelder rose, A heap of rainbow knitting, Where, blinking in her pleased repose, A Persian cat was sitting. " A place to love in, — live, — for aye, If we too, like Tithonus, Could find some God to stretch the gray...
239 psl. - There is place and enough for the pains of prose ; — But whenever a scent from the whitethorn blows. And the jasmine-stars...
4 psl. - You'd surely say Some tea-board garden-maker Had planned it in Dutch William's day To please some florist Quaker, So trim it was. The yew-trees still, With pious care perverted, Grew in the same grim shapes ; and still The lipless dolphin spurted ; Still in his wonted state abode The broken-nosed Apollo ; And still the cypress-arbour showed The same umbrageous hollow.
173 psl. - Spring comes laughing By vale and hill, By wind-flower walking And daffodil, — Sing stars of morning, Sing morning skies, Sing blue of speedwell, And my Love's eyes. When comes the Summer, Full-leaved and Strong, And gay birds gossip The orchard long, — Sing hid, sweet honey That no bee sips ; Sing red, red roses, And my Love's lips.
74 psl. - M. VIEUXBOIS (murmuring) Ah, PAUL ! ... old PAUL ! . . . EULALIE too ! And ROSE ! . . . And O ! ' the sky so blue ! ' BABETTE (sings) ' One had my Mother's eyes, Wistful and mild ; One had my Father's face ; One was a Child : All of them bent to me, — Bent down and smiled ! ' (He is asleep !) M. VIEUXBOIS (almost inaudibly) How I forget ! I am so old ! . . . Good night, BABETTE ! 4.67.
161 psl. - ... died ; — Message or wish, may be; — Smooth the folds out and see. Hardly the worst of us Here could have smiled !Only the tremulous Words of a child ; — Prattle, that has for stops Just a few ruddy drops. Look. She is sad to miss, Morning and night, His — her dead father's — kiss ; Tries to be bright, Good to mamma, and sweet. That is all.
135 psl. - So with the rest. Who will may trace "Behind the new each elder face Defined as clearly; Science proceeds, and man stands still; Our " world " today's as good or ill, — As cultured (nearly), As yours was, Horace!