The Poetry and Mystery of Dreams

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Charles Godfrey Leland
E. H. Butler & Company, 1856 - 258 oldal
 

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206. oldal - And when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring To arched walks of twilight groves. And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, Of pine, or monumental oak...
88. oldal - I HAD a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless and pathless ; and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air.
83. oldal - FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon : As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song ; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along.
225. oldal - Eve, Young virgins might have visions of delight, And soft adorings from their loves receive Upon the honeyed middle of the night If ceremonies due they did aright; As, supperless to bed they must retire, And couch supine their beauties, lily white; Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire.
88. oldal - They slept on the abyss without a surge — The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave, The moon their mistress had expired before ; The winds were withered in the stagnant air, And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need Of aid from them— She was the universe.
62. oldal - It ceased ; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, — A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
248. oldal - Assaying by his devilish art to reach The organs of her fancy, and with them forge Illusions as he list, phantasms and dreams, Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint...
234. oldal - WHAT is more gentle than a wind in summer ? What is more soothing than the pretty hummer That stays one moment in an open flower, And buzzes cheerily from bower to bower ? What is more tranquil than a musk-rose blowing In a green island, far from all men's knowing ? More healthful than the leafiness of dales ? More secret than a nest of nightingales ? More serene than Cordelia's countenance ? More full of visions than a high romance...
144. oldal - The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die. When reposing that night on my pallet of straw, By the wolf-scaring...
250. oldal - The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them!

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