Poems, 1. kötetEdward Moxon, Dover Street, 1843 - 231 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 15 találatból.
11. oldal
... night - fowl crow : The cock sung out an hour ere light : From the dark fen the oxen's low Came to her without hope of change , In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn , Till cold winds woke the gray - eyed morn About MARIANA . 11 =
... night - fowl crow : The cock sung out an hour ere light : From the dark fen the oxen's low Came to her without hope of change , In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn , Till cold winds woke the gray - eyed morn About MARIANA . 11 =
14. oldal
... hour When the thick - moted sunbeam lay Athwart the chambers , and the day Was sloping toward his western bower . Then said she , " I am very dreary , He will not come , " she said ; She wept , " I am aweary , aweary , Oh God , that I ...
... hour When the thick - moted sunbeam lay Athwart the chambers , and the day Was sloping toward his western bower . Then said she , " I am very dreary , He will not come , " she said ; She wept , " I am aweary , aweary , Oh God , that I ...
37. oldal
... to live alone , Methinks were better than to own A crown , a sceptre , and a throne . O strengthen me , enlighten me ! I faint in this obscurity , Thou dewy dawn of memory . SONG . I. A SPIRIT haunts the year's last hours ODE TO MEMORY .
... to live alone , Methinks were better than to own A crown , a sceptre , and a throne . O strengthen me , enlighten me ! I faint in this obscurity , Thou dewy dawn of memory . SONG . I. A SPIRIT haunts the year's last hours ODE TO MEMORY .
38. oldal
Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson. SONG . I. A SPIRIT haunts the year's last hours Dwelling amid these yellowing bowers : To himself he talks ; For at eventide , listening earnestly , At his work you may hear him sob and sigh In the walks ...
Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson. SONG . I. A SPIRIT haunts the year's last hours Dwelling amid these yellowing bowers : To himself he talks ; For at eventide , listening earnestly , At his work you may hear him sob and sigh In the walks ...
39. oldal
... hour before death ; My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves At the moist rich smell of the rotting leaves , And the breath Of the fading edges of box beneath , And the year's last rose . Heavily hangs the broad sunflower Over its ...
... hour before death ; My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves At the moist rich smell of the rotting leaves , And the breath Of the fading edges of box beneath , And the year's last rose . Heavily hangs the broad sunflower Over its ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Adeline adown ALFRED TENNYSON ARABIAN NIGHTS aweary beauty beneath blow breath brow call me early Camelot cheek cloud dark dead Dear mother Ida death deep divine DOVER STREET dream DYING SWAN Earl was fair earth EDWARD MOXON Eleänore Enone evermore eyes faint fall flame floating flowers folds thy grave forlorn gazing golden prime goose green that folds harken ere Haroun Alraschid hath hear heard heart Heaven Heavily hangs hills hollow kiss Lady Clara Vere Lady of Shalott land lawn Let them rave light Lilian lips live forgotten look'd merman merrily mind moan moon morn New-year night o'er Oriana Queen roll'd rose round saw thro seem'd shadow silver sing sleep slowly smile song soul sound spake spirit star stept sweet tears thee thine thou thought throne turret and tree Vere de Vere voice wander weep wild wind wold
Népszerű szakaszok
170. oldal - ... 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 mountain-tops, 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...
169. oldal - Breathing like one that hath a weary dream. Full-faced above the valley stood the moon; And like a downward smoke, the slender stream Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem. A land of streams! some, like a downward smoke, Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go; And some thro' wavering lights and shadows broke, Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below.
72. oldal - To look down to Camelot She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott And moving thro' a mirror clear That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear.
180. oldal - Those far-renowned brides of ancient song Peopled the hollow dark, like burning stars, And I heard sounds of insult, shame, and wrong, And trumpets blown for wars...
212. oldal - Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace : Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul, While the stars burn, the moons increase, And the great ages onward roll. Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet. Nothing comes to thee new or strange. Sleep full of rest from head to feet ; Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.
5. oldal - Her tears fell with the dews at even; Her tears fell ere the dews were dried; She could not look on the sweet heaven, Either at morn or eventide. After the flitting of the bats, When thickest dark did trance the sky, She drew her casement-curtain by, And glanced athwart the glooming flats. 20 She only said, 'The night is dreary, He cometh not,' she said; She said, 'I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!
155. oldal - I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. The honeysuckle round the porch has wov'n its wavy bowers, And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers ; And the wild marsh-marigold shines like fire in swamps and hollows gray, And I 'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I 'm to be Queen o
76. oldal - The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, Like to some branch of stars we see Hung in the golden Galaxy. The bridle bells rang merrily As he rode down to Camelot : And from his blazon'd baldric slung A mighty silver bugle hung, And as he rode his armour rung, Beside remote Shalott.
172. oldal - THERE is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. Here are cool mosses deep, And thro...
153. oldal - You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear ; To-morrow 'ill be the happiest time of all the glad New year ; Of all the glad New-year, mother, the maddest merriest day; For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o