The Earthly Paradise: A Poem, Випуск 59,Том 3F.S. Ellis, 1870 |
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Accontius adown amid anigh aught awhile Bathstead behold belike bitter bliss Bodli bright brought cast chapmen cried CYDIPPE dead death deemed door doth drave dream drew dull e'en earth enow erst eyes face fain fair fear feet fell gazed gold gone goodwife grew grey grown Gudrun hall hand happy days head heard heart heart afire Herdholt hope hope and fear Iceland Kiartan king kiss knew lips look lovesome maid midst misery neath nigh night Norway nought o'er Olaf once Ospak Oswif pain passed perchance Philoctetes Refna Rhodope round scarce seemed shalt shame smile soft spake stood strange strive sweet sword tale tears tell thee therewith thine things thou art thought thy dream trembling turned twixt unto voice weary wend wind wise withal wondering word
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Сторінка 160 - gainst them showed the wind-hover's dark spot, Nor yet midst trembling peace was change forgot. OCTOBER OLOVE, turn from the unchanging sea, and gaze Down these grey slopes upon the year grown old, A-dying mid the autumn-scented haze, That hangeth o'er the hollow in the wold, Where the wind-bitten ancient elms enfold Grey church, long barn, orchard, and red-roofed stead, Wrought in dead days for men a long while dead. Come down, O love; may not our hands still meet, Since still we live to-day, forgetting...
Сторінка 274 - twixt root and crown of these high trees, Turns the dead midnight into dreamy noon, Silent and full of wonders, for the breeze Died at the sunset, and no images, No hopes of day, are left in sky or earth — Is it not fair, and of most wondrous worth ? Yea, I have looked and seen November there ; The changeless seal of change it seemed to be, Fair death of things that, living once, were fair ; Bright sign of loneliness too great for me...
Сторінка 87 - O ye shepherds, what have ye seen, The snow in the street and the wind on the door. To slay your sorrow, and heal your teen ? " Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor.
Сторінка 164 - FAIR is the night and fair the day, Now April is forgot of May, Now into June May falls away; Fair day, fair night, O give me back The tide that all fair things did lack Except my love, except my sweet! Blow back, O wind ! thou art not kind, Though thou art sweet; thou hast no mind Her hair about my sweet to wind...
Сторінка 274 - Across thce, e'en as smoke-tinged mist-wreaths brought Down a fair dale to make it blind and nought? Art thou so weary that no world there seems Beyond these four walls, hung with pain and dreams...
Сторінка 525 - She turned, until her sightless eyes did gaze As though the wall, the hills, must melt away, And show her Herdholt in the twilight grey ; She cried, with tremulous voice, and eyes grown wet For the last time, whate'er should happen yet, With hands stretched out for all that she had lost : " I did the worst to him I loved the most.
Сторінка 26 - O heart grown wise, wilt thou not let me go? Will ye be never satisfied, O eyes, With gazing on my misery and my woe? O foolish, quivering heart, now grown so wise, What folly is it that from out thee cries To be all close to him once more, once more Ere yet the dark stream cleaveth shore from shore?" Her voice was a wail now, with quivering hand At her white raiment did she clutch and tear Unwitting, as she rose up and did stand Bent over his wide eyes and pale face, where No torturing hope was...
Сторінка 165 - ... 0 flowery sward, though thou art bright 1 praise thee not for thy delight, thou hast not kissed her silver feet. thou know'st her not, O rustling tree, what dost thou then to shadow me, whose shade her breast did never see? o flowers, in vain ye bow adown ; ye have not felt her odorous gown brush past your heads my lips to meet. flow on, great river — thou mayst deem that far away, a summer stream, thou...
Сторінка 340 - After a three days' calm, and to her knee Well-nigh they reached; fair were the white hands laid Upon the door-posts where the dragons played; Her brow was smooth now, and a smile began To cross her delicate mouth, the snare of man; For some thought rose within the heart of her That made her eyes bright, her cheeks ruddier Than was their wont, yet were they delicate As are the changing steps of high heaven's gate; Bluer than grey her eyes were; somewhat thin Her marvellous red lips ; round was her...
Сторінка 165 - With nought of true thou wilt me greet. And thou that men call by my name, O helpless one, hast thou no shame That thou must even look the same, As while agone, as while agone, When thou and she were left alone, And hands, and lips, and tears did meet ? Grow weak and pine...