Selections from the poetical works of Richard Monckton Milnes, Том 3 |
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... Dear mother ! dearer , kinder , far , If by my childhood's bed Your care had never strove to bar Misfortune from my head , But laid me where my brothers are , Among the quiet dead . " Ah ! why not die ? This cruel strife Can thus - thus ...
... Dear mother ! dearer , kinder , far , If by my childhood's bed Your care had never strove to bar Misfortune from my head , But laid me where my brothers are , Among the quiet dead . " Ah ! why not die ? This cruel strife Can thus - thus ...
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... Dear child ! -He comes - nay , blush not so To have your secret known , ' Tis best - ' tis best that I should go- And leave you here alone . " Then , as his steps grew near and fast , Her hand was on the door , Her heart , by holy grace ...
... Dear child ! -He comes - nay , blush not so To have your secret known , ' Tis best - ' tis best that I should go- And leave you here alone . " Then , as his steps grew near and fast , Her hand was on the door , Her heart , by holy grace ...
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... dear Friends ! do anything but this : This is a deed to wake the jealous gods Into a cruel vengeance . We are Men ; We live from hour to hour , and have no right , Holding no power , to fetter future years . We may , if Heaven so please ...
... dear Friends ! do anything but this : This is a deed to wake the jealous gods Into a cruel vengeance . We are Men ; We live from hour to hour , and have no right , Holding no power , to fetter future years . We may , if Heaven so please ...
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... dear Friend ! As you implore us , we should not return : Came we all back , as Heaven would hardly grant , There must be faded cheeks and sunken eyes , And minds enfeebled with the rack of time , And hearts grown colder , and , it may ...
... dear Friend ! As you implore us , we should not return : Came we all back , as Heaven would hardly grant , There must be faded cheeks and sunken eyes , And minds enfeebled with the rack of time , And hearts grown colder , and , it may ...
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... dear unison , We had experience of a blissful state , In which our powers of thought stood separate , Each in its own high freedom , set apart , But both close folded in one loving heart ; So that we seemed , without conceit , to be ...
... dear unison , We had experience of a blissful state , In which our powers of thought stood separate , Each in its own high freedom , set apart , But both close folded in one loving heart ; So that we seemed , without conceit , to be ...
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æther Alipius Amid Beauty beneath Bertrand du Guesclin BISHOP KEN blessed blest bliss Bosphorus breast breath bright brow calm child Damascus dear death deep delight divine dream earth Eastern world eyes face fair faith fame fancy fear feel flowers fresh gaze glory God's gold Gondola grace grave Greece hand happy head hear heart Heaven holy honour hope hour King LAIUS land light living LORD HOUGHTON memo'ry memory mind Moon mortal mosques Naples Nature Nature's never night o'er once pain pass passion past pause peace pleasure prayer pride repose rest RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES Rome round scene scorn Scutari seemed sense shame sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit stood stranger strife strong sweet Tagaste Tannhäuser tears thee things thought toil tomb torpid truth Venice voice Wakedi weary words youth
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Сторінка 116 - He came not, — no, he came not, — The night came on alone, — The little stars sat one by one, Each on his golden throne ; The evening wind passed by my cheek, The leaves above were stirred, — But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard.
Сторінка 50 - A man's best things are nearest him, Lie close about his feet, It is the distant and the dim That we are sick to greet: For flowers that grow our hands beneath We struggle and aspire, — Our hearts must die, except they breathe The air of fresh desire.
Сторінка 106 - A FAIR little girl sat under a tree, Sewing as long as her eyes could see : Then smoothed her work, and folded it right, And said, " Dear Work ! Good Night, Good Night...
Сторінка 47 - If you have no power of giving ; — An arm of aid to the weak ; — A friendly hand to the friendless ; — Kind words so short to speak, But whose echo is endless — The world is wide ; these things are small ; They may be nothing, but they are all.
Сторінка 92 - mid this long tumultuous scene, The image on our mind Of these dear women rests serene In happy bounds confined. Within one undisturbed abode Their presence seems to dwell, From which continual pleasures flowed, And countless graces fell ; Not unbecoming this our age Of decorative forms, Yet simple as the hermitage Exposed to Nature's storms. Our English grandeur on the shelf Deposed its decent gloom, And every pride unloosed itself Within that modest room ; Where none were sad, and few were dull,...
Сторінка 116 - THE BROOK-SIDE. I WANDERED by the brook-side, I wandered by the mill,— I could not hear the brook flow, The noisy wheel was still ; There was no burr of grasshopper, No chirp of any bird, But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. I sat beneath the elm-tree, I watched the long, long, shade, And as it grew still longer, I did not feel afraid ; For I listened for a footfall, I listened for a word, — But...
Сторінка 117 - But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. I sat beneath the elm-tree, I watched the long, long, shade, And as it grew still longer, I did not feel afraid ; For I listened for a footfall, I listened for a word, — But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard.
Сторінка 58 - BELIEVE not that your inner eye Can ever in just measure try The worth of hours as they go by ; For every man's weak self, alas ! Makes him to see them while they pass As through a dim or tinted glass...
Сторінка 108 - I never felt The agonizing sense Of seeing love from passion melt Into indifference ; The fearful shame, that day by day Burns onward, still to burn, To' have thrown your precious heart away, And met this black return.
Сторінка 47 - And a terrible heart-thrill, If you' have no power of giving ; An arm of aid to the weak, A friendly hand to the friendless, Kind words, so short to speak, But whose echo is endless : The world is wide, — these things are small, They may be nothing, but they are All.