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223. oldal - Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast, And in a little while our lips are dumb. Let us alone. What is it that will last? All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past.
229. oldal - When merry milkmaids click the latch, And rarely smells the new-mown hay, And the cock hath sung beneath the thatch Twice or thrice his roundelay, Twice or thrice his roundelay ; Alone and warming his five wits, The white owl in the belfry sits.
223. 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...
431. oldal - With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is full of blessings.
101. oldal - My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.
223. oldal - And all at once they sang, " Our island home Is far beyond the wave, we will no longer roam.
227. 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...
231. oldal - God gives us love. Something to love He lends us ; but, when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone.
223. oldal - And their warm tears : but all hath suffer'd change For surely now our household hearths are cold : Our sons inherit us : our looks are strange : And we should come like ghosts to trouble joy. Or else the island princes over-bold Have eat our substance, and the minstrel sings Before them of the ten years' war in Troy, And our great deeds, as half-forgotten things.
329. oldal - Offending race of human kind, By nature, reason, learning, blind ; You who, through frailty, stepp'd aside ; And you, who never fell from pride : You who in different sects were shamm'd, And come to see each other damn'd ; (So some folk told you, but they knew No more of Jove's designs than you ;) — The world's mad business now is o'er, And I resent these pranks no more. — I to such blockheads set my wit ! I damn such fools ! — -Go, go, you're bit.