Mit mondanak mások - Írjon ismertetőt
Nem találtunk ismertetőket a szokott helyeken.
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
ancient answer ARAB arms beams beauty beneath blessing blood blue breast breath bring brow calm Cloth cloud cold comes dark Death deep desire door dreams drink drop Earth eyes face fade fair fall feel feet fire flame flood flower gate give glory glow golden grows hand happy Hassan head hear heart Heaven hills hour keep kiss land leaves lift light lips lives looks mighty moon morning mountains Nature never night o'er once passed passion path Persian POEMS Poet prayer Price 75 cents pride repose rest rose sands sang shade shadow shine side silent sing sleep Song soul sound splendor stars strain stream summer sweet thee thine thou art thought Till tree turn Unto veil voice waits wandering warm waves wind wing wisdom WRITINGS young
84. oldal - From the Desert I come to thee On a stallion shod with fire; And the winds are left behind In the speed of my desire. Under thy window I stand, And the midnight hears my cry: I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die Till the sun grows cold, And the stars are old, And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold!
209. oldal - NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE'S WRITINGS. TWICE-TOLD TALES. Two Volumes. Price $1.50. THE SCARLET LETTER. Price 75 cents. THE HOUSE OF THE SEVEN GABLES. Price $1.00. THE SNOW IMAGE, AND OTHER TWICE-TOLD TALES. Price 75 cents. THE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE. * Price 75 cents.
98. oldal - Bathed in the tenderest purple of distance, Tinted and shadowed by pencils of air, Thy battlements hang o'er the slopes and the forests, Seats of the Gods in the limitless ether, Looming sublimely aloft and afar. Above them, like folds of imperial ermine, Sparkle the snow-fields that furrow thy forehead, — Desolate realms, inaccessible, silent, Chasms and caverns where Day is a stranger, Garners where...
173. oldal - ... its violets closer to thy breast ; Though by the feet of generations trod, The headstone crumbles from thy place of rest. The marvel of thy beauty cannot die ; The sweetness of thy presence shall not fade ; Earth gave not all the glory of thine eye, — Death may not keep what Death has never made. It was not thine, that forehead strange and cold, Nor those dumb lips, they hid beneath the snow ; Thy heart would throb beneath that passive fold, Thy hands for me that stony clasp forego. But thou...
97. oldal - I see thce, supreme in the midst of thy co-mates, Standing alone 'twixt the Earth and the Heavens, Heir of the Sunset and Herald of Morn. Zone above zone, to thy shoulders of granite, The climates of Earth are displayed, as an index, Giving the scope of the Book of Creation. There, in the gorges that widen, descending From cloud and from cold into summer eternal, Gather the threads of the ice-gendered fountains — Gather to riotous torrents of crystal, And, giving each shelvy recess where they dally...
24. oldal - But to Truth's house there is a single door, Which is Experience. He teaches best, Who feels the hearts of all men in his breast, And knows their strength or weakness through his own.
113. oldal - And thou know'st my water-skin is free; Drink and welcome, for the wells are distant, And my strength and safety lie in thee. Bend thy forehead now, to take my kisses! Lift in love thy dark and splendid eye: Thou art glad when Hassan mounts the saddle, — Thou art proud he owns thee: so am I. Let the Sultan bring his boasted horses, Prancing with their diamond-studded reins; They, my darling, shall not match thy fleetness When they course with thee the desert plains!
49. oldal - DAUGHTER of Egypt, veil thine eyes! I cannot bear their fire ; Nor will I touch with sacrifice Those altars of Desire. For they are flames that shun the day, And their unholy light Is fed from natures gone astray In passion and in night. The stars of Beauty and of Sin, They burn amid the dark, Like beacons that to ruin win The fascinated bark. Then veil their glow, lest I forswear The hopes thou canst not crown, And in the black waves of thy hair My struggling manhood drown ! 1853.
135. oldal - Day cannot make thee half so fair, Nor the stars of eve so dear: The arms that clasp and the breast that keeps, They tell me thou art near, And the perfect beauty of thy face In thy murmured words I hear. The lights of land have dropped below The vast and glimmering sea ; The world we leave is a tale that is told,— A fable, that cannot be.
158. oldal - UNTO the Desert and the Desert steed Farewell! The journey is completed now : Struck are the tents of Ishmael's wandering breed, And I unwind the turban from my brow. The sun has ceased to shine ; the palms that bent, Inebriate with light, have disappeared ; And naught is left me of the Orient But the tanned bosom and the unshorn beard.