Tennyson's Complete Works: (Including Queen Mary)R.Worthington, 1876 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 55 találatból.
. oldal
... Holy Grail . Tithonus 214 Pelleas and Ettarre The Voyage 215 The Last Tournament In the Valley of Cauteretz 216 Guinevere The Flower 217 The Passing of Arthur CLARIBEL . A MELODY . I. WHERE Claribel low - VI CONTENTS .
... Holy Grail . Tithonus 214 Pelleas and Ettarre The Voyage 215 The Last Tournament In the Valley of Cauteretz 216 Guinevere The Flower 217 The Passing of Arthur CLARIBEL . A MELODY . I. WHERE Claribel low - VI CONTENTS .
9. oldal
... holy ground ; Hollow smile and frozen sneer Come not here . Holy water will I pour Into every spicy flower Of the laurel - shrubs that hedge it around . The flowers would faint at your cruel cheer . In your eye there is death , There is ...
... holy ground ; Hollow smile and frozen sneer Come not here . Holy water will I pour Into every spicy flower Of the laurel - shrubs that hedge it around . The flowers would faint at your cruel cheer . In your eye there is death , There is ...
15. oldal
... holy , Chanted loudly , chanted lowly , Till her blood was frozen slowly , And her eyes were darken'd wholly , Turn'd to tower'd Camelot . For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first house by the water - side , Singing in her song she ...
... holy , Chanted loudly , chanted lowly , Till her blood was frozen slowly , And her eyes were darken'd wholly , Turn'd to tower'd Camelot . For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first house by the water - side , Singing in her song she ...
32. oldal
... holy balm ; Nor harken what the inner spirit sings , There is no joy but calm ! " Why should we only toil , the roof and crown ( of things ? III . Lo ! in the middle of the wood , The folded leaf is woo'd from out the bud With winds ...
... holy balm ; Nor harken what the inner spirit sings , There is no joy but calm ! " Why should we only toil , the roof and crown ( of things ? III . Lo ! in the middle of the wood , The folded leaf is woo'd from out the bud With winds ...
33. oldal
... holy , us , blow- To watch the long bright river drawing ( slowly His waters from the purple hill- To hear the dewy echoes calling From cave to cave thro ' the thick - twined ( vine To watch the emerald - colour'd water falling Thro ...
... holy , us , blow- To watch the long bright river drawing ( slowly His waters from the purple hill- To hear the dewy echoes calling From cave to cave thro ' the thick - twined ( vine To watch the emerald - colour'd water falling Thro ...
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
answer'd arms Arthur ask'd blood breast breath Caerleon call'd Camelot child court cried Dagonet dark dead dear death dream Dubric earth Eliz Enid ev'n evermore Excalibur eyes face fair father fear fire flower follow'd fool Gareth Gawain Geraint golden grace Guinevere hall hand happy hast hate hath head hear heard heart heaven holy horse hour jousts King King Arthur kiss kiss'd knew Lady Lady of Shalott land Lavaine light Limours live look look'd Lord maid maiden Mary Merlin moon morn mother move never night noble o'er once Oriana Philip Prince Queen rode rose round seem'd shadow shame Sir Bedivere Sir Lancelot Sir Pelleas sleep smile song soul Spain spake speak star stept stood sweet tears thee thine things thought thro tower turn'd vext voice wild wind Wyatt
Népszerű szakaszok
86. oldal - BREAK, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea ! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play ! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead...
360. 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? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
156. oldal - And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
120. 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...
61. oldal - Myself not least, but honoured of them all; And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move.
42. oldal - And answer made King Arthur, breathing hard: " My end draws nigh ; 'tis time that I were gone. Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight, And bear me to the margin ; yet I fear My wound hath taken cold, and I shall die.
41. oldal - And in the moon athwart the place of tombs, Where lay the mighty bones of ancient men, Old knights, and over them the sea-wind sang Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He, stepping down By zigzag paths, and juts of pointed rock, Came on the shining levels of the lake. There drew he forth the brand Excalibur, And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon, Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt...
62. oldal - Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho...
103. oldal - I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
41. oldal - Stored in some treasure-house of mighty kings, Some one might show it at a joust of arms, Saying, 'King Arthur's sword, Excalibur, Wrought by the lonely maiden of the Lake. Nine years she wrought it, sitting in the deeps Upon the hidden bases of the hills.