Louise Imogen Guiney |
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Сторінка 6
The warm , persistently light - hearted letters came to us less frequently ; but they
came , unfailingly at Christmas , like gay holly sprays flung from December to
young January , as if in token of the lastingness of things . She was so rare a ...
The warm , persistently light - hearted letters came to us less frequently ; but they
came , unfailingly at Christmas , like gay holly sprays flung from December to
young January , as if in token of the lastingness of things . She was so rare a ...
Сторінка 12
... I know not ; God knoweth . ” And this is no matter for wonder . Thin silvern
echoes from the past were always chiming on her inward ear , majestic syllables
drew on her imaginings , and while she dwelt on " old , unhappy , far - off things ”
the ...
... I know not ; God knoweth . ” And this is no matter for wonder . Thin silvern
echoes from the past were always chiming on her inward ear , majestic syllables
drew on her imaginings , and while she dwelt on " old , unhappy , far - off things ”
the ...
Сторінка 13
unhappy , far - off things ” the new wine of her youth and the immediate
loveliness of this present life mingled an intoxicating cup . And suddenly the spell
of the past would fall from her , and she would be as irresponsibly alive to the
bright ...
unhappy , far - off things ” the new wine of her youth and the immediate
loveliness of this present life mingled an intoxicating cup . And suddenly the spell
of the past would fall from her , and she would be as irresponsibly alive to the
bright ...
Сторінка 19
She had an appetite as responsive to good things as if their chemistry had not
been as dark to her as that of lost elixirs , and for some inconspicuous ribbon of
her dress she would cherish an af . fection almost poignant in its childlike
intensity .
She had an appetite as responsive to good things as if their chemistry had not
been as dark to her as that of lost elixirs , and for some inconspicuous ribbon of
her dress she would cherish an af . fection almost poignant in its childlike
intensity .
Сторінка 20
And these things are to be remembered of her , not because the ox may take
brute pleasure in deploring the delicacy of his brother , the race - horse , not only
that they made her an irresistibly fascinating blend of power and helplessness ,
but ...
And these things are to be remembered of her , not because the ox may take
brute pleasure in deploring the delicacy of his brother , the race - horse , not only
that they made her an irresistibly fascinating blend of power and helplessness ,
but ...
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adventure beauty blood born breath bright cause century color critical dark dead dear death delight desire dull earth echoes England English essays eyes face fall fancy fighting figure follow give gods guess hand happy Hazlitt hear heart heaven hills hold imagination immortal individual knew later learned leaves less letters light living look lost Louise Guiney magic Mangan memory MICHIGAN mind mortal moved names nature never night once passion past perfect perhaps poem poet poetry printing rain remembers responsive rich riding road says sense singing smile song soul spirit Study suffered sweet Thee things thought touched tree turn verse voice walking wave wild wind wonder writing written wrote young youth
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Сторінка 109 - THEY told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead, They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed. I wept as I remember'd how often you and I Had tired the sun with talking and sent him down the sky...
Сторінка 50 - We hurry with never a word in the track of our fathers. (I hear in my heart, I hear in its ominous pulses All day, on the road, the hoofs of invisible horses, All night, from their stalls, the importunate pawing and neighing.) We spur to a land of no name, out-racing the storm-wind; We leap to the infinite dark like sparks from the anvil. Thou leadest, O God! All's well with Thy troopers that follow.
Сторінка 51 - ... hoofs of invisible horses, All night, from their stalls, the importunate pawing and neighing. Let cowards and laggards fall back! but alert to the saddle Weatherworn and abreast, go men of our galloping legion, With a stirrup-cup each to the lily of women that loves him. The trail is through dolor and dread, over crags and morasses; There are shapes by the way, there are things that appal or entice us: What odds?
Сторінка 50 - The trail is through dolour and dread, over crags and morasses; There are shapes by the way, there are things that appal or entice us: What odds? We are Knights of the Grail, we are vowed to the riding.
Сторінка 71 - Are ye unwise who would not let me love you? Or must too bold desires be quieted? Only to ease you, never to reprove you, I will go back to heaven with heart unfed: Yet sisterly I turn, I bend above you, To kiss (ah, with what sorrow!) all my dead. Next to the Golden City of belief she had, as she began, continued to serve poetry, the "love of lovely words.
Сторінка 111 - Keep holy watch, with silence, prayer, and fasting, Till morning break and every bugle play. Unto the One aware from everlasting Dear are the winners : thou art more than they. Forth from this peace on manhood's way thou goest, Flushed with resolve, and radiant in mail ; Blessing supreme for men unborn thou sowest, O Knight elect ! O soul ordained to fail...
Сторінка 61 - Take Temperance to thy breast, While yet is the hour of choosing, As arbitress exquisite Of all that shall thee betide; For better than fortune's best Is mastery in the using, And sweeter than anything sweet The art to lay it aside!
Сторінка 50 - And friendship a flower in the dust, and glory a sunbeam : Not here is our prize, nor, alas ! after these our pursuing. A dipping of plumes, a tear, a shake of the bridle, A passing salute to this world and her pitiful beauty ; We hurry with never a word in the track of our fathers.
Сторінка 59 - THE gusty morns are here, When all the reeds ride low with level spear ; And on such nights as lured us far of yore, Down rocky alleys yet, and through the pine, The Hound-star and the pagan Hunter shine: But I and thou, ah, field-fellow of mine, Together roam no more.
Сторінка 59 - The cowslip's common gold that children spy, The plume upon the larch. There is a music fills The oaks of Belmont and the Wayland hills Southward to Dewing's little bubbly stream, The heavenly weather's call ! Oh, who alive Hastes not to start, delays not to arrive, Having free feet that never felt a gyve Weigh, even in a dream?