The Poetical Works of Alfred Tennyson, Poet Laureate, Etc: Complete in Two Volumes, 2. kötetTicknor and Fields, 1861 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 79 találatból.
7. oldal
... dead selves to higher things . But who shall so forecast the years , And find in loss a gain to match ? Or reach a hand through time to catch The far - off interest of tears ? Let Love clasp Grief , lest both be drowned , Let darkness ...
... dead selves to higher things . But who shall so forecast the years , And find in loss a gain to match ? Or reach a hand through time to catch The far - off interest of tears ? Let Love clasp Grief , lest both be drowned , Let darkness ...
14. oldal
... dead calm in that noble breast Which heaves but with the heaving deep . XII . Lo ! as a dove when up she springs , To bear through Heaven a tale of woe , Some dolorous message knit below The wild pulsation of her wings ; Like her I go I ...
... dead calm in that noble breast Which heaves but with the heaving deep . XII . Lo ! as a dove when up she springs , To bear through Heaven a tale of woe , Some dolorous message knit below The wild pulsation of her wings ; Like her I go I ...
17. oldal
... dead lake That holds the shadow of a lark Hung in the shadow of a heaven ? Or has the shock , so harshly given , Confused me like the unhappy bark That strikes by night a craggy shelf , And staggers blindly ere she sink ? And stunned me ...
... dead lake That holds the shadow of a lark Hung in the shadow of a heaven ? Or has the shock , so harshly given , Confused me like the unhappy bark That strikes by night a craggy shelf , And staggers blindly ere she sink ? And stunned me ...
19. oldal
... dead . Ah ! yet , even yet , if this might be , I , falling on his faithful heart , Would , breathing through his lips , impart The life that almost dies in me : That dies not , but endures with pain , And slowly forms the firmer mind ...
... dead . Ah ! yet , even yet , if this might be , I , falling on his faithful heart , Would , breathing through his lips , impart The life that almost dies in me : That dies not , but endures with pain , And slowly forms the firmer mind ...
20. oldal
... dead ; Who speak their feeling as it is , And weep the fulness from the mind . " It will be hard , " they say , " to find Another service such as this . " My lighter moods are like to these , That out of words a comfort win ; But there ...
... dead ; Who speak their feeling as it is , And weep the fulness from the mind . " It will be hard , " they say , " to find Another service such as this . " My lighter moods are like to these , That out of words a comfort win ; But there ...
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50 cents 75 cents answer'd arms Arthur ask'd Astolat beat blood break breath Caerleon call'd Camelot child Cloth court cried dark dead dear death diamond dream Dubric Earl earth Edyrn Enid ev'n evermore eyes face fair Fair lord fame fancy father fear feet flower FUREIDIS Gawain Geraint gone grief Guinevere half hall hand happy hear heard heart Heaven horse hour jousts King knew knight land Lavaine light Limours little birdie live look look'd lord maid maiden Maud Merlin Modred morn moving never noble o'er once passion peace POEMS poison'd Prince Queen rest Ring rode rose seem'd shadow shame silent Sir Lancelot sleep smile song sorrow soul spake sparrow-hawk speak star sweet Table Round thee thine things thou thought thro true turn'd vext Vivien voice weep wild wood word wrought
Népszerű szakaszok
178. oldal - Came thro' the jaws of Death Back from the mouth of Hell, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.
82. oldal - RING out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light ; The year is dying in the night ; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow ; The year is going, let him go ; Ring out the false, ring in the true.
139. oldal - She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat, Were it earth in an earthy bed; My dust would hear her and beat, Had I lain for a century dead; Would start and tremble under her feet, And blossom in purple and red.
7. oldal - I HELD it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.
139. oldal - The slender acacia would not shake One long milk-bloom on the tree * The white lake-blossom fell into the lake, As the pimpernel dozed on the lea ; But the rose was awake all night for your sake, Knowing your promise to me ; The lilies and roses were all awake, They sigh'd for the dawn and thee.
155. oldal - I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling ; And here and there a foamy flake Upon me, as I...
37. oldal - THAT each, who seems a separate whole. Should move his rounds, and fusing all The skirts of self again, should fall Remerging in the general Soul, Is faith as vague as all unsweet : Eternal form shall still divide The eternal soul from all beside ; And I shall know him when we meet...
159. oldal - I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers; I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows; I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows. I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses; I linger by my shingly bars; I loiter round my cresses; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river: For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
94. oldal - THERE rolls the deep where grew the tree. O earth, what changes hast thou seen ! There where the long street roars, hath been The stillness of the central sea. The hills are shadows, and they flow From form to form, and nothing stands ; They melt like mist, the solid lands, Like clouds they shape themselves and go.
41. oldal - OH yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood; That nothing walks with aimless feet; That not one life shall be destroy'd, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...