Poems, 1. kötet

Első borító
Edward Moxon, 1855 - 376 oldal

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Kiválasztott oldalak

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Népszerű szakaszok

148. oldal - Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind, In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind.
142. oldal - In the afternoon they came unto a land, In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.
12. oldal - He cometh not,' she said; She said, 'I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!
320. oldal - AND on her lover's arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new world which is the old...
270. oldal - Then her cheek was pale and thinner than should be for one so young, And her eyes on all my motions with a mute observance hung. And I said, " My cousin Amy, speak, and speak the truth to me, Trust me, cousin, all the current of my being sets to thee.
269. oldal - In the Spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin's breast; In the Spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest; In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish 'd dove; In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
266. oldal - In offices of tenderness, and pay Meet adoration to my household gods, When I am gone. He works his work, I mine. "There lies the port: the vessel puffs her sail: There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners, Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me That ever with a frolic welcome took The thunder and the sunshine...
70. oldal - In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining, Heavily the low sky raining Over...
277. oldal - Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new: That which they have done but earnest of the things that they shall do.
32. oldal - Over its grave i' the earth so chilly ; Heavily hangs the hollyhock, Heavily hangs the tiger-lily. ii The air is damp, and hush'd, and close, As a sick man's room when he taketh repose An hour before death ; My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves At the moist rich smell of the rotting leaves, And the breath Of the fading edges of box beneath, And the year's last rose. Heavily hangs the broad...

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