Sonnets of this CenturyWilliam Sharp W. Scott, 1886 - 333 стор. |
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Alcyone Art thou Aubrey De Vere beauty beneath bird blind breast breath bright brow calm cloud cold couplet Dante Gabriel Rossetti dark dead death deep delight dost doth dream earth English sonnet eternal eyes fair fate fatiguing physical fear flowers gaze gleam gloom glory golden grave Hall Caine hand Hartley Coleridge hath hear heart heaven Helen's Tower hill hope immortal Italian Leigh Hunt life's light lines lips living lone love thee love's melody mighty Milton moon mould murmur nature night o'er octave Ozymandias Petrarcan Poems poet poetic poetry pure quatrains rhyme-sounds rhymes Rossetti round seems sestet shadow Shakespeare Shakespearian shore sigh silence sing sleep smile soft song soul sound stars stream strive sweet tercets Theodore Watts thine things thou art thought verse voice volume wave weary wild wind wings Wordsworth writers
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Сторінка lvi - Since there's no help. come let us kiss and part: Nay. I have done: you get no more of me. And I am glad. yea. glad with all my heart. That thus so cleanly I myself can free: Shake hands for ever. cancel all our vows. And when we meet at any time again. Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.
Сторінка 114 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He...
Сторінка 119 - Bright Star! would I were steadfast as thou art — Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature's patient, sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores...
Сторінка 202 - I MET a traveller from an antique land Who said : Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed. And on the pedestal these words appear: " My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair !
Сторінка 264 - IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration ; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity ; The gentleness of heaven...
Сторінка 292 - THE poetry of earth is never dead : When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead ; That is the Grasshopper's...
Сторінка 256 - Two Voices are there ; one is of the Sea, One of the Mountains ; each a mighty Voice : In both from age to age Thou didst rejoice, They were thy chosen Music, Liberty...
Сторінка lviii - Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait, On purpose laid to make the taker mad: Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; A bliss in proof, — and prov'd, a very woe; Before, a joy propos'd; behind, a dream.
Сторінка 34 - To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind.
Сторінка 260 - Sleepless ! and soon the small birds' melodies Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees ; And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry. Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay, And could not win thee, Sleep ! by any stealth : So do not let me wear...