Selections from the Poetical Works of Richard Monckton Milnes, Lord HoughtonJ. Murray, 1863 - 284 стор. |
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Сторінка 33
... name , and my youth Rose up in my soul , and my blood grew warm ; And I hardly remembered the broken truth , And I wholly remembered the ancient charm . D I watched the ' unfolding scenes of his life , One - Sided Troth . 33 ONE-SIDED ...
... name , and my youth Rose up in my soul , and my blood grew warm ; And I hardly remembered the broken truth , And I wholly remembered the ancient charm . D I watched the ' unfolding scenes of his life , One - Sided Troth . 33 ONE-SIDED ...
Сторінка 74
... ancient bliss ? Blasts of death - impregnate air Would , with all the flowers , be there , — Storms thro ' all the blue be spread In thick battalia o'er my head ; Pallid looks of friendships broken , Phantom words unwisely spoken ...
... ancient bliss ? Blasts of death - impregnate air Would , with all the flowers , be there , — Storms thro ' all the blue be spread In thick battalia o'er my head ; Pallid looks of friendships broken , Phantom words unwisely spoken ...
Сторінка 78
... ancient mind , The thoughts that have no power to die In golden poesy enshrined : And near me hang , of later birth , Ripe clusters from the living tree , But what the pleasure , what the worth , If all is savourless to me ! I hear the ...
... ancient mind , The thoughts that have no power to die In golden poesy enshrined : And near me hang , of later birth , Ripe clusters from the living tree , But what the pleasure , what the worth , If all is savourless to me ! I hear the ...
Сторінка 79
... THE MARTYRS OF THE MIND . HONOUR to the sacred Past ! Reverence to the ancient days ! Yet believe them not the last That demand your love and praise : Think not that the olden story Can within its depth The Martyrs of the Mind . 79.
... THE MARTYRS OF THE MIND . HONOUR to the sacred Past ! Reverence to the ancient days ! Yet believe them not the last That demand your love and praise : Think not that the olden story Can within its depth The Martyrs of the Mind . 79.
Сторінка 79
... ancient mind , The thoughts that have no power to die In golden poesy enshrined : And near me hang , of later birth , Ripe clusters from the living tree , But what the pleasure , what the worth , If all is savourless to me ! I hear the ...
... ancient mind , The thoughts that have no power to die In golden poesy enshrined : And near me hang , of later birth , Ripe clusters from the living tree , But what the pleasure , what the worth , If all is savourless to me ! I hear the ...
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Amid amque ancient anguish beauty beneath Bertrand du Guesclin Births of woe brow calm CLENT HILL coarser plan Damascus days of coarser dear Death deep delight depth enfold divine dream earth Eastern world face Faith fear feel flowers food for crime gaze glory God's gold grace Greece hand happy hear heart Heaven honour hour King LAIUS land Learn to labour less demand assurance less require endurance light little Athens living LORD HOUGHTON Manorial Master's high design memory mind moment's pleasure mortal mosques Nature's never night o'er pain peace pleasure repose rest RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES rough and thankless round scene sense shame sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit strife strong sweet tears thankless game thee Thessalian plain things Think not rashly thought Tis not subject tomb True truth Venice voice weary woe and food youth
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Сторінка 103 - I listened for a word, — But' the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. 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 air passed by my cheek, The leaves above were stirrM, — But' the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard.
Сторінка 44 - 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 41 - A sense of an earnest will To help the lowly living, 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.
Сторінка 102 - 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 181 - Or may I woo thee In earlier Sicilian ? or thy smiles Seek as they once were sought, in Grecian isles, By bards who died content on pleasant sward, Leaving great verse unto a little clan ? O, give me their old vigour, and unheard Save of the quiet Primrose, and the span Of heaven and few ears, Rounded by thee, my song should die away Content as theirs, Rich in the simple worship of a day.
Сторінка 79 - 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 52 - 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 53 - So should we live, that every hour May die as dies the natural flower — A self-reviving thing of power ; That every thought and every deed May hold within itself the seed Of future good and future meed ; Esteeming sorrow, whose employ Is to develop, not destroy, Far better than a barren joy.
Сторінка 119 - By whom the saving message came, Believers meet together here, And hold these precincts very dear. The floor is spread with matting neat, Unstained by touch of shodden feet — A decent and delightful seat ! Where, after due devotions paid, And legal ordinance obeyed, Men may in happy parlance join, And gay with serious thought combine ; May ask the news from lands away, May fix the business of to-day ; Or, with " God willing," at the close, To-morrow's hopes and deeds dispose.
Сторінка 34 - Follow yon majestic train Down the slopes of old renown, Knightly forms without disdain, Sainted heads without a frown ; Emperors of thought and hand Congregate, a glorious show, Met from every age and land In the plains of Long-ago. As the heart of childhood brings Something of eternal joy, From its own unsounded springs, Such as life can scarce destroy : So, remindful of the prime, Spirits, wand'ring to and fro, Rest upon the resting time In the peace of Long-ago.