Tennyson, His Art and Relation to Modern Life, 10. kötetG.P. Putnam's Sons, 1894 - 516 oldal |
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allegory ancient Arthur artist beauty Bedivere belong blank verse character charm clear cries death deep delightful dramatic monologue dream earth emotion England English Enid Enoch Enoch Arden Enone Ettarre faith feeling felt flowers Galahad Gareth Geraint Geraint and Enid Guinevere happy hear heart heaven Holy Grail human Idylls imagination immortal invented Keats kind King Lady of Shalott Lancelot land landscape light Limours lines living Locksley Hall lover Lucretius mankind Maud Memoriam Merlin mind moral Moreover Nature never night noble painted pass passage passion Pelleas poem poet poetic poetry Princess Queen question Rizpah romance round Sea Fairies sense Shelley song sorrow soul spirit story sweet tale tender Tennyson things thou thought thro touch Tristram true truth verse vision Vivien voice whole wild wind woman women Wordsworth wrought youth
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445. oldal - star. And one clear call for me I And may there be no moaning of the bar. When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. CHAPTER XV THE
125. oldal - same kind of curiosity which Ulysses feels in this poem—but also because the second line is one of Tennyson's finest examples of sound echoing the sense: The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs; the deep Moans round with many voices. But the dominant interest here, more than in (Enone and The Lotos-Eaters,
196. oldal - love involves the love before; My love is vaster passion now; Tho' mix'd with God and Nature thou, I seem to love thee more and more. Far off thou art, but ever nigh; I have thee still, and I rejoice; I prosper, circled with thy voice; I shall not lose thee tho
374. oldal - From the great deep to the great deep he goes." • •••** Then from the dawn it seem'd there came, but faint As from beyond the limit of the world. Like the last echo born of a great cry. Sounds, as if some fair city were one voice Around a king returning from
455. oldal - I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand. Little flower—but if I could understand What yon are, root and all, and all in
372. oldal - The second answer is changed — I heard the water lapping on the crag, And the long ripple washing in the reeds. Both of them have the modern note, especially in the adjectives ; but though they lose simplicity, they gain splendour. The words in
159. oldal - the shepherd from the heights, " for love is of the valley." Love does not care to walk With Death and Morning on the silver horns. Nor wilt thou snare him in the white ravine, Nor find him dropt upon the firths of ice, That huddling slant
100. oldal - twere possible After long grief and pain To find the arms of my true love Round me once again ! But of the longing for lost love there are two poems, one in this book, and one included in it
74. oldal - Her words did gather thunder as they ran. And as the lightning to the thunder Which follows it, riving the spirit of man, Making earth wonder, So was their meaning to her words. No sword Of wrath her right arm hurl'd. But one poor poet's scroll, and with his word She shook the world.
84. oldal - these four lines, so clear and fine : When the flowers come again, mother, beneath the waning light You'll never see me more in the long gray fields at night; When from the dry dark wold the summer airs blow cool, On the oat-grass and the sword-grass, and the bulrush in the pool.