A Selection from the Poems of William MorrisB. Tauchnitz, 1886 - 319 стор. |
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amidst ancient Andvari anigh behold bright Brynhild castellan cried dawn dead death deeds deem dream drew dwell e'en earth earthly EDWIN FRANCIS GAY empty day eyes face Fafnir fain fair fear feet finger FRANCIS HUEFFER gathered gazed gleamed glorious glory Gods gold golden green grew grey Greyfell Gripir hand hast thou hath Hauberk head hearken heart heaven hope kiss knew land light Lilybæum lips Loki looked Master mighty Morris neath nigh night Norns nought o'er Odin Ogier Ogier the Dane ORPHEUS pass raiment Regin Reidmar ring seemed shone Sigmund Sigurd Sigurd the Volsung spake stood strong sweet sword tale TAUCHNITZ tell thee thine things thou hast thou shalt told turned twixt unto voice vols Volsung Volsunga Saga weary wend WILLIAM MORRIS wilt thou wind wisdom wise wonder word Wrath wrought
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Сторінка 78 - FORGET six counties overhung with smoke, Forget the snorting steam and piston stroke, Forget the spreading of the hideous town; Think rather of the pack-horse on the down, And dream of London, small and white and clean, The clear Thames bordered by its gardens green...
Сторінка 77 - Folk say, a wizard to a northern king At Christmas-tide such wondrous things did show, That through one window men beheld the spring, And through another saw the summer glow, And through a third the fruited vines a-row, While still, unheard, but in its wonted way, Piped the drear wind of that December day. So with this Earthly Paradise it is, If ye will read aright, and pardon me, Who strive to build a shadowy isle of bliss Midmost the beating of the steely sea...
Сторінка 48 - That are patiently waiting there for the dawn : Patient and colourless, though Heaven's gold Waits to float through them along with the sun. Far out in the meadows, above the young corn, The heavy elms wait...
Сторінка 76 - Heaven or Hell I have no power to sing, I cannot ease the burden of your fears, Or make quick-coming death a little thing, Or bring again the pleasure of past years, Nor for my words shall ye forget your tears, Or hope again for aught that I can say, The idle singer of an empty day. But rather, when aweary of your mirth, From full hearts still unsatisfied ye sigh, And, feeling kindly unto all the earth, Grudge every minute as it passes by, Made the more mindful that the sweet days die — — Remember...
Сторінка 43 - Eh! lies, my Jehane? by God's head, At Paris folks would deem them true! Do you know, Jehane, they cry for you, 'Jehane the brown! Jehane the brown! Give us Jehane to burn or drown!
Сторінка 76 - Dreamer of dreams, born out of my due time, Why should I strive to set the crooked straight? Let it suffice me that my murmuring rhyme Beats with light wing against the ivory gate, Telling a tale not too importunate To those who in the sleepy region stay, -.<- Lulled by the singer of an empty day.
Сторінка 76 - Grudge every minute as it passes by, Made the more mindful that the sweet days die — Remember me a little then I pray, The idle singer of an empty day. The heavy trouble, the bewildering care That weighs us down who live and earn our bread...
Сторінка 23 - Came Launcelot walking ; this is true, the kiss Wherewith we kissed in meeting that spring day, I scarce dare talk of the remember'd bliss, " When both our mouths went wandering in one way, And aching sorely, met among the leaves; Our hands being left behind strained far away.
Сторінка 19 - And one of these strange choosing cloths was blue, Wavy and long, and one cut short and red; No man could tell the better of the two. 'After a shivering half-hour you said, "God help! heaven's colour, the blue;
Сторінка 164 - I have beheld him tremble oft enough At things he could not choose but trust to me, Although he knew the world was wise and rough: And never did he fail to let me see His love, his folly and faithlessness, maybe; And still in turn I gave him voice to pray Such prayers as cling about an empty day. "Thou, keen-eyed, reading me, mayst read him through, For surely little is there left behind...