Louise Imogen Guiney |
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Сторінка 16
Even then at the beginning , when chaplets were being woven for her , she might
have written that later recital of her secular creed : " To fear not possible failure
Nor covet the game at all . ” At that time the game was in her hands : the game of
...
Even then at the beginning , when chaplets were being woven for her , she might
have written that later recital of her secular creed : " To fear not possible failure
Nor covet the game at all . ” At that time the game was in her hands : the game of
...
Сторінка 23
But the only road for her was still the path of escape to the open , to the free fields
of thought and the fellowship of the written word . Hers was a youth of
picturesque loyalties , one of them to the lost cause of the Stuarts , a confessed
congenital ...
But the only road for her was still the path of escape to the open , to the free fields
of thought and the fellowship of the written word . Hers was a youth of
picturesque loyalties , one of them to the lost cause of the Stuarts , a confessed
congenital ...
Сторінка 51
... late as 1911 , “ my best book ” ) ! she is in full swing of that individual color and
form of verse that were hers thenceforth , hall - marked , inimitable , of a delicate
yet imperishable fragility of loveliness , unique as the hand they were written in .
... late as 1911 , “ my best book ” ) ! she is in full swing of that individual color and
form of verse that were hers thenceforth , hall - marked , inimitable , of a delicate
yet imperishable fragility of loveliness , unique as the hand they were written in .
Сторінка 63
This is great writing : for here the soul walks unabashed , articulate , impassioned
, the finite crying to the infinite , the perishing atom appealing to the sky of the
universal over him . Perhaps there can be nothing greater in a dramatic sense , in
...
This is great writing : for here the soul walks unabashed , articulate , impassioned
, the finite crying to the infinite , the perishing atom appealing to the sky of the
universal over him . Perhaps there can be nothing greater in a dramatic sense , in
...
Сторінка 65
This is great writing : for here the soul walks usabashed , articulate , impassioned
, the finite crying to the infinite , the peristissa atom appealing to the sky of the
material over hima Perhaps there can be nothing your in a dramatic sense , in
our ...
This is great writing : for here the soul walks usabashed , articulate , impassioned
, the finite crying to the infinite , the peristissa atom appealing to the sky of the
material over hima Perhaps there can be nothing your in a dramatic sense , in
our ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
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
Популярні уривки
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?
Бібліографічна інформація
| Назва | Louise Imogen Guiney |
| Автор | Alice Brown |
| Видавець | Macmillan, 1921 |
| Оригінал із | Мічиганський університет |
| Оцифровано | 10 лис. 2006 |
| Обсяг | 111 стор. |
| Експортувати бібліографічний опис | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |