Poems, 1. kötetEdward Moxon, 1842 - 231 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 13 találatból.
16. oldal
... weary with a finger's touch . Those writhed limbs of lightning speed ; Like that strange angel which of old , Until the breaking of the light , Wrestled with wandering Israel , Past Yabbok brook the livelong night , And heaven's mazed ...
... weary with a finger's touch . Those writhed limbs of lightning speed ; Like that strange angel which of old , Until the breaking of the light , Wrestled with wandering Israel , Past Yabbok brook the livelong night , And heaven's mazed ...
36. oldal
... crowned lilies , standing near Purple - spiked lavender : Whither in after life retired From brawling storms , From weary wind , With youthful fancy reinspired , We may hold converse with all forms Of the many 366 ODE TO MEMORY .
... crowned lilies , standing near Purple - spiked lavender : Whither in after life retired From brawling storms , From weary wind , With youthful fancy reinspired , We may hold converse with all forms Of the many 366 ODE TO MEMORY .
53. oldal
... weary wind went on , And took the reed - tops as it went . Some blue peaks in the distance rose , And white against the cold - white sky , Shone out their crowning snows . One willow over the river wept , And shook the THE DYING SWAN.
... weary wind went on , And took the reed - tops as it went . Some blue peaks in the distance rose , And white against the cold - white sky , Shone out their crowning snows . One willow over the river wept , And shook the THE DYING SWAN.
66. oldal
... weary , weary way I go , Oriana . When Norland winds pipe down the sea Oriana , I walk , I dare not think of thee , Oriana . Thou liest beneath the greenwood tree , I dare not die and come to thee , Oriana . I hear the roaring of the ...
... weary , weary way I go , Oriana . When Norland winds pipe down the sea Oriana , I walk , I dare not think of thee , Oriana . Thou liest beneath the greenwood tree , I dare not die and come to thee , Oriana . I hear the roaring of the ...
78. oldal
... of Shalott ? Only reapers , reaping early In among the bearded barley , Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly , Down to tower'd Camelot : And by the moon the reaper weary , Piling sheaves 78 THE LADY OF SHALOTT .
... of Shalott ? Only reapers , reaping early In among the bearded barley , Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly , Down to tower'd Camelot : And by the moon the reaper weary , Piling sheaves 78 THE LADY OF SHALOTT .
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Adeline adown ambrosial ARABIAN NIGHTS beauty beneath blow breath brow call me early Camelot cheek cloud dark dead Dear mother Ida death deep dream DYING SWAN Earl was fair earth 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 mermen merrily mind moan moon morn night o'er Oriana POEMS Queen roll'd rose round saw thro seem'd shadow shallop silent silver sing sleep slowly smile song soul sound spake spirit star stept sweet Sweet Alice tears thee thine thou thought throne turret and tree Vere de Vere voice wander weary weep wild wind wold
Népszerű szakaszok
86. oldal - ... of Shalott. Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, Dead-pale between the houses high, Silent into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and burgher, lord and dame, And round the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott.
158. oldal - Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
175. 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.
182. oldal - Before them of the ten years' war in Troy, And our great deeds, as half-forgotten things. Is there confusion in the little isle? Let what is broken so remain. The Gods are hard to reconcile: 'Tis hard to settle order once again. There is confusion worse than death, Trouble on trouble, pain on pain, Long...
46. oldal - THE poet in a golden clime was born, W.ith golden stars above ; Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.
213. oldal - Tis nearly twelve o'clock. Shake hands, before you die. Old year, we'll dearly rue for you : What is it we can do for you ? Speak out before you die. His face is growing sharp and thin. Alack ! our friend is gone. Close up his eyes : tie up his chin : Step from the corpse, and let him in That standeth there alone, And waiteth at the door. There's a new foot on the floor, my friend, And a new face at the door, my friend, A new face at the door.
183. oldal - We have had enough of action, and of motion we, Roll'd to starboard, roll'd to larboard, when the surge was seething free, Where the wallowing monster spouted his foamfountains in the sea. Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind, In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind.
162. oldal - The night-winds come and go, mother, upon the meadow-grass, And the happy stars above them seem to brighten as they pass ; There will not be a drop of rain the whole of the livelong day, And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o
161. oldal - I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. Little Effie shall go with me to-morrow to the green, And you'll be there too, mother, to see me made the Queen ; For the shepherd lads on every side 'ill come from far away, And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o
78. 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.