The Complete Poetical Works of George EliotF.A. Stokes & brother, 1888 - 473 стор. |
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after-not Agatha Annibal Antonio Stradivari ARIAS ARMGART arms aught Bedmár bird BLASCO bliss blood breast breath child choose dance dark dear death deeds divine DON AMADOR DON SILVA dream Duke earth eyes face faith father fear FEDALMA feed flowers gaze give glad GRAF Guadix Gypsy hand hate hear heart heaven HINDA hold holy horoscope HOST JUAN king kiss Laertes light limbs lips Lisa live look LOPEZ lord lute Marranos Minuccio Moorish Naldo never night noble nought o'er Orpheus Osric pain passion pause PEPITA poor pray queen Roldan round seemed SEPHARDO shattering song sing smile song soul Spain Spaniard Spanish speak stars strong sweet sword tell things thou thought touch trust truth turned Twas Twixt viol violins voice WALPURGA watch wings words young ZARCA
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Сторінка 1 - MAY I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence...
Сторінка 146 - May be : they are different. His quality declines : he spoils his hand With over-drinking. But were his the best, He could not work for two. My work is mine, And, heresy or not, if my hand slacked I should rob God — since He is fullest good — Leaving a blank instead of violins. I say, not God Himself can make man's best Without best men to help Him.
Сторінка 158 - Two angels guide The path of men, both aged and yet young, As angels are, ripening through endless years. On one he leans : some call her Memory, And some, Tradition ; and her voice is sweet, With deep mysterious accords : the other, Floating above, holds down a lamp which streams A light divine and searching on the earth, Compelling eyes and footsteps. Memory yields. Yet clings with loving check, and shines anew Reflecting all the rays of that bright lamp Our angel Reason holds. We had not walked...
Сторінка 31 - Twas little need; He strove not, cried not, but with tottering speed, As if the scorn and howls were driving wind That urged his body, serving so the mind Which could but shrink and yearn, he sought the screen Of thorny thickets, and there fell unseen. The immortal name of Jubal filled the sky, While Jubal lonely laid him down to die.
Сторінка 143 - And for my fame — when any master holds 'Twixt chin and hand a violin of mine. He will be glad that Stradivari lived, Made violins, and made them of the best. The masters only know whose work is good : They will choose mine, and while God gives them skill I give them instruments to play upon, God choosing me to help Him.*'.
Сторінка 2 - This is life to come, Which martyred men have made more glorious For us who strive to follow. May I reach That purest heaven, be to other souls The cup of strength in some great agony, Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, Beget the smiles that have no cruelty — Be the sweet presence of a good diffused, And in diffusion ever more intense. So shall I join the choir invisible Whose music is the gladness of the world.
Сторінка 134 - ... Unknowing how the good I loved was wrought, Untroubled by the fear that it would cease. Slowly the barges floated into view Rounding a grassy hill to me sublime With some Unknown beyond it, whither flew The parting cuckoo toward a fresh spring time.
Сторінка 131 - I CANNOT choose but think upon the time When our two lives grew like two buds that kiss At lightest thrill from the bee's swinging chime, Because .the one so near the other is.
Сторінка 135 - We had the self-same world enlarged for each By loving difference of girl and boy : The fruit that hung on high beyond my reach He plucked for me, and oft he must employ A measuring glance to guide my tiny shoe Where lay firm stepping-stones, or call to mind This thing I like my sister may not do, For she is little, and I must be kind.
Сторінка 2 - And all our rarer, better, truer self. That sobbed religiously in yearning song, That watched to ease the burthen of the world, Laboriously tracing what must be, And what may yet be better — saw within A worthier image for the sanctuary, And shaped it forth before the multitude Divinely human, raising worship so To higher reverence more mixed with love — That better self shall live till human Time Shall fold its eyelids, and the human -sky Be gathered like a scroll within the tomb Unread forever.