The Works of Alfred Tennyson: Early poemsHenry S. King, 1875 |
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The Works of Alfred Tennyson: Early Poems Baron Alfred Tennyson Tennyson Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2016 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
ALFRED TENNYSON answer'd beneath betwixt blessed blow breathing brows call me early Camelot cheek child cloud dark daughter Dear mother Ida death deep door Dora dream Earl was fair earth EDWIN MORRIS Eleänore ENGLISH IDYLLS Enone ere I die Excalibur eyes face fairest Fames fire floating flowers folds green hand happy harken ere hath hear heard heart Heaven hills King King Arthur kiss kiss'd Lady Clara Vere Lady of Shalott land Let them rave light lips look look'd many-fountain'd Ida Mary mind moon morn never New-year night o'er Oriana Pallas Paris Peleus pine POEMS Queen rose round seem'd shadow shoulder leaning SIMEON STYLITES Simois Sir Bedivere sleep smile song soul sound spake star sweet tears thee thine things thou thought thro turn'd turret and tree valley Vere de Vere voice wandering weary wild wind
Népszerű szakaszok
78. oldal - Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend t For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
113. oldal - Camelot; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro' the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls, and four gray towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott.
30. oldal - My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!
60. oldal - He saw thro' life and death, thro' good and ill, He saw thro" his own soul. The marvel of the everlasting will, An open scroll, Before him lay...
20. oldal - And one a foreground black with stones and slags, Beyond, a line of heights, and higher All barr'd with long white cloud the scornful crags, And highest, snow and fire. And one, an English home — gray twilight pour"d On dewy pastures, dewy trees, Softer than sleep — all things in order stored, A haunt of ancient Peace.
117. oldal - Tirra lirra," by the river Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces...
115. oldal - Or when the moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed ; ' I am half sick of shadows,
25. oldal - Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height; To hear each other's whisper'd speech; Eating the Lotos day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray; To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mild-minded melancholy...
21. oldal - And some thro' wavering lights and shadows broke, Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below. They saw the gleaming river seaward flow From the inner land : far off, three mountaintops, Three silent pinnacles of aged snow, Stood sunset-flush'd: and, dew'd with showery drops, Up-clomb the shadowy pine above the woven copse. The charmed sunset linger'd low adown In the red West : thro...
23. oldal - And thro' the moss the ivies creep, And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep, And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep. Why are we weigh'd upon with heaviness, And utterly consumed with sharp distress. While all things else have rest from weariness? All things have rest: why should we toil alone, We only toil, who are the first of things, And make perpetual moan, Still from one sorrow to another thrown: Nor ever fold our wings, And cease from wanderings, Nor steep our brows in slumber's...