The English Poets, Том 4Thomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1894 |
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Сторінка xv
... Woods 665 • 674 • 676 676 680 681 683 683 686 687 689 692 693 694 700 How they brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix . Pippa's Song The Bishop orders his Tomb at Saint Praxed's Church . The Lost Leader . David singing before Saul Home ...
... Woods 665 • 674 • 676 676 680 681 683 683 686 687 689 692 693 694 700 How they brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix . Pippa's Song The Bishop orders his Tomb at Saint Praxed's Church . The Lost Leader . David singing before Saul Home ...
Сторінка 16
Thomas Humphry Ward. THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN . At the corner of Wood Street , when daylight appears , Hangs a Thrush that sings loud , it has sung for three years Poor Susan has passed by the spot , and has heard In the silence of ...
Thomas Humphry Ward. THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN . At the corner of Wood Street , when daylight appears , Hangs a Thrush that sings loud , it has sung for three years Poor Susan has passed by the spot , and has heard In the silence of ...
Сторінка 18
... wood May teach you more of man , Of moral evil and of good , Than all the sages can . Sweet is the lore which Nature brings ; Our meddling intellect Mis - shapes the beauteous forms of things : - We murder to dissect . Enough of Science ...
... wood May teach you more of man , Of moral evil and of good , Than all the sages can . Sweet is the lore which Nature brings ; Our meddling intellect Mis - shapes the beauteous forms of things : - We murder to dissect . Enough of Science ...
Сторінка 19
... wood run wild : these pastoral farms , Green to the very door ; and wreaths of smoke Sent up , in silence , from among the trees ! With some uncertain notice , as might seem Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods , Or of some ...
... wood run wild : these pastoral farms , Green to the very door ; and wreaths of smoke Sent up , in silence , from among the trees ! With some uncertain notice , as might seem Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods , Or of some ...
Сторінка 20
... woods , How often has my spirit turned to thee ! And now , with gleams of half - extinguished thought , With many ... wood , Their colours and their forms , were then to me An appetite ; a feeling and a love , That had no need of a ...
... woods , How often has my spirit turned to thee ! And now , with gleams of half - extinguished thought , With many ... wood , Their colours and their forms , were then to me An appetite ; a feeling and a love , That had no need of a ...
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ballads beauty beneath blank verse breast breath bright Byron Camelot charm cloud DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth Emily Brontë English Excalibur eyes face fair fame fear feel flowers friends gaze Goethe grace grave green hand happy Hartley Coleridge hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill hour human Iacchus Keats King Arthur Lady Lady of Shalott light live lonely look Love's lyric Matthew Arnold mind moon morn mountains nature never night o'er once Oxus passion poems poet poetic poetry rose round Rustum Samian wine Seistan shadow Shalott shore silent sing Sir Bedivere sleep smile song sonnet sorrow soul spirit stars stood stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thro trees verse voice wandering waves weary wild wind Wordsworth youth
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Сторінка 19 - Is lightened: — that serene and blessed mood, In which the affections gently lead us on, — Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul: While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
Сторінка 284 - 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 375 - WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With...
Сторінка 324 - O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Сторінка 285 - Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves' play, Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow: Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, — Calm or convulsed, in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving — boundless, endless, and sublime, The image of eternity, the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee;...
Сторінка 83 - Earth has not anything to show more fair : Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty : This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning ; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky, All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Сторінка 324 - Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Сторінка 376 - Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them!
Сторінка 260 - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent ! THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.
Сторінка 740 - Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night.