Papyrus, 2. kötet,1-6. kiadás

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1908
 

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18. oldal - AFOOT and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
2. oldal - WAR I abhor, And yet how sweet The sound along the marching street Of drum and fife; and I forget Wet eyes of widows, and forget Broken old mothers, and the whole Dark butchery without a soul. Without a soul — save this bright drink Of heady music, sweet as hell ; And even my peace-abiding feet Go marching with the marching street, For yonder, yonder goes the fife, And what care I for human life! The tears fill my astonished eyes, And my full heart is like to break ; And yet 'tis all embannered...
10. oldal - THE DISCIPLE. When Narcissus died, the pool of his pleasure changed from a cup of sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, and the Oreads came weeping through the woodland that they might sing to the pool and give it comfort. And when they saw that the pool had changed from a cup of sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, they loosened the green tressea of their hair, and cried to the pool, and said : "We do not wonder that you should mourn in this manner for Narcissus, so beautiful was he.
11. oldal - COULD we but know The land that ends our dark, uncertain travel. Where lie those happier hills and meadows low; Ah ! if beyond the spirit's inmost cavil Aught of that country could we surely know, Who would not go? Might we but hear The hovering angels' high imagined chorus, Or catch, betimes, with wakeful eyes and clear One radiant vista of the realm before us, — With one rapt moment given to see and hear, Ah, who would fear? Were we quite sure To find the peerless friend who left us lonely, Or...
3. oldal - Oh, it is wickedness to clothe Yon hideous grinning thing that stalks Hidden in music, like a queen That in a garden of glory walks Till good men love the thing they loathe! Art, thou hast many infamies But not an infamy like this. Oh, snap the fife and still the drum And show the monster as she is!
17. oldal - Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
14. oldal - And as of old, in music measureless, I heard his golden voice and marked him trace Under the common thing the hidden grace, And conjure wonder out of emptiness, Till mean things put on beauty like a dress And all the world was an enchanted place. And then methought outside a fast-locked gate I mourned the loss of unrecorded words, Forgotten tales and mysteries half said, Wonders that might have been articulate, And voiceless thoughts like murdered singing birds. And so I woke and knew that he was...
7. oldal - NOT BUY a bicycle or a pair of tires from anyone at any price until you receive our catalogues and learn our unheard of factory | prices and remarkable special offers to rider agenta.

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