The Inn of Strange Meetings, and Other PoemsH.S. King, 1871 - 190 стор. |
Інші видання - Показати все
Загальні терміни та фрази
æther afar amid the limes amorous beautiful birds bloom blue blush breast breath bride bright bright eyes Broceliande brown brown eyes chrysolite Creçi cyclamen darling deep delicious delight divine dream Earine Eleänore fair fate feet fingers flowers fluttered gaze girl golden Greek hair happy heart Helen Helvellyn Immanuel Kant Ivory Gate joyous King kiss lady laugh light lips little Laurette Loraine love's lymph magical maiden Marigold marvellous Megalopolis melody Merlin merry mighty miniver murmur mystic Naiad neath night nymph o'er pass passionate poet pulse rhyme River of Dart rose Rupert sing sleep soft song Sophocles Soracte star STRANGE MEETINGS summer sunset susurrus sweet Sweeter swift thing thou Thrush touch tremulous Twas VIII violet vision Waits for thee wandering weary weird wild wind Windermere wine Winter in Brighton wondrous woodland wooing young Zeus
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 165 - But wherefore one's age be revealing ? Leave that to the Registry books. A man — is as old as he's feeling; A woman, as old as she looks; Don't eagles live longer than rooks ? Besides, in this festival season 'Tis fit that great truths should be told : ' Whom the gods love, die young' — for this reason, They cannot grow old.
Сторінка 89 - Latini, et quo quemque modo fugiatque feratque laborem. sunt geminae Somni portae, quarum altera fertur cornea, qua veris facilis datur exitus umbris, altera candenti perfecta nitens elephanto, sed falsa ad caelum mittunt insomnia Manes.
Сторінка 83 - When I first put it on it was awfully swell : I went to a picnic, met Lucy Lepel, Made a hole in the heart of that sweet little girl, And disjointed the nose of her lover, the Earl.
Сторінка 122 - If by some arrangement dual I were Adams mixed with Whewell, Then some day I, as wooer, perhaps might come To so sweet an Artium Magistra.
Сторінка 47 - NO ; I shall pass into the Morning Land As now from sleep into the life of morn ; Live the new life of the new world, unshorn Of the swift brain, the executing hand ; See the dense darkness suddenly withdrawn, As when Orion's sightless eyes discerned the dawn. I shall behold it ; I shall see the utter Glory of sunrise heretofore unseen, Freshening the woodland ways with brighter green, And calling into life all wings that flutter, All throats of music and all eyes of light, And driving o'er the verge...
Сторінка 186 - COMING OF AGE. THE poet may tread earth sadly, Yet is he Dreamland's king, And the fays at his bidding gladly Visions of beauty bring ; But his joys will be rarer, finer, Away from this earthly stage, When he, who is now a minor, Comes of age. II. For him soft leaflets cluster Of violet, ivy, and vine ; For him leaps livelier lustre From purple depth of wine : Pauses the song of the Sirens, Closes the Sibyl's page, Till he, whom earth environs, Comes of age.
Сторінка 47 - O virgin world ! O marvellous far days ! No more with dreams of grief doth love grow bitter, Nor trouble dim the lustre wont to glitter In happy eyes. Decay alone decays : A moment — death's dull sleep is o'er ; and we Drink the immortal morning air Earine.
Сторінка 90 - Then the oars of Ithaca dip so Silently into the sea, That they wake not sad Calypso — * And the Hero wanders free : He breasts the ocean-furrows, At war with the words of Fate — And the blue tide's low susurrus Comes up to the Ivory Gate.
Сторінка 169 - WILL there be snowfall on lofty Soracte After a summer so tranquil and torrid ? Whoso detests the east wind, as a fact he Thinks 'twill be horrid. But there are zephyrs more mild by the ocean, Every keen touch of the snowdrifts to lighten : If to be cosy and snug you've a notion — Winter in Brighton ! Politics nobody cares about ; spurn a Topic whereby all our happiness suffers. Dolts in the back streets of Brighton return a Couple of duffers. 47 48 WINTER Iff BRIGHTON. Fawcett and White in the...
Сторінка 181 - ALL through the sultry hours of June, From morning blithe to golden noon, And till the star of evening climbs The gray-blue East, a world too soon, • There sings a Thrush amid the limes.