Відгуки відвідувачів - Написати рецензію
Не знайдено жодних рецензій.
Інші видання - Показати все
arms bear beauty blood blow Born brave breath bring comes crown dark dead dear death deep died doth dream earth eyes face fair fall fear fire flowers give gold grace green hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour John keep king lady land leave light live look Lord mind morn Nature never night o'er once pass poor rest rise rock rose round seen ship side sight sing sleep smile song soon soul sound speak spirit stand stars stood sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou thought Toll slowly tree true turned unto voice wave wild wind wood young
Сторінка 102 - Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides, and tho...
Сторінка 176 - What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now forever taken from my sight ; Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower, — We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind ; In the primal sympathy Which, having been, must ever be ; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death. In years that bring the philosophic mind.
Сторінка 168 - The hills Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun, the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods — rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green ; and, poured round all, Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages.
Сторінка 28 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll ! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; — upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy...
Сторінка 126 - Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place ! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover ! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced ; Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail : And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up...
Сторінка 151 - With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; His youthful hose well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big, manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange, eventful history, Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.
Сторінка 230 - Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on. In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me: As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, While God is marching on.
Сторінка 5 - Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild. And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse ; Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes, with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long, drawn out With wanton heed and giddy cunning ; The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony ; That Orpheus...
Сторінка 274 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart : Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea : Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou...
Сторінка 126 - And here were gardens bright with sinuous rills Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover!