The Earthly Paradise: A Poem, Том 1Ellis and White, 1870 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
Acrisius ancient anigh Argive Argolis Argos arms art thou aught beast behold Betwixt bliss brought cast Cepheus Charles of Blois clad cried Danaë dead death deemed Dictys drave dread dream drew dwell E'en erst eyes face fain fair fair lord fear feast feet fell fellows folk friends gate gazed glad gods gold golden green grew grey hall hand happy happy days hast head heard heart hope Jovinian King knew land live look lord maid midst mighty misery morn neath nigh night nought o'er pain painted veil passed Perseus Phineus Polydectes raiment round scarce Schoeneus seemed Seneschal Seriphos shalt shame shore shout slay smile stood strange sweet sword tale tell thee Therewith Thessaly thine things thou art thought told trees trembling turned twixt unto wind withal words wretched
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Сторінка 3 - 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 2 - 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 2 - So let me sing of names remembered, Because they, living not, can ne'er be dead, Or long time take their memory quite away From us poor singers of an empty day. Dreamer of dreams, born out of my due time, Why should I strive to set the crooked straight...
Сторінка 1 - Of 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...
Сторінка 3 - And treasured scanty spice from some far sea, Florence gold cloth, and Ypres napery, And cloth of Bruges, and hogsheads of Guienne; While nigh the thronged wharf Geoffrey Chaucer's pen Moves over bills of lading — mid such times Shall dwell the hollow puppets of my rhymes.
Сторінка 126 - The dawn beheld him sunken in his place Upon the floor; and sleeping there he lay, Not heeding aught the little jets of spray The roughened sea brought nigh, across him cast, For as one dead all thought from him had passed. Yet long before the sun had showed his head, Long ere the varied hangings on the wall Had gained once more their blue and green and red, He rose as one some well-known sign doth call When war upon the city's gates doth fall, And scarce like one fresh risen out of sleep, He 'gan...
Сторінка 20 - Ploughed his thin cheeks ; his hair was more than grey, And like to one he seemed whose better day Is over to himself, though foolish fame Shouts louder year by year his empty name. Unarmed he was, nor clad upon that morn Much like a king: an ivory hunting-horn Was slung about him, rich with gems and gold, And a great white ger-falcon did he hold Upon his fist ; before his feet there sat A scrivener making notes of this and that As the King bade him, and behind his chair His captains stood in armour...
Сторінка 130 - But he — what look of mastery was this He cast on her ? why were his lips so red ? Why was his face so flushed with happiness ? So looks not one who deems himself but dead, E'en if to death he bows a willing head ; So rather looks a god well pleased to find Some earthly damsel fashioned to his mind.
Сторінка 117 - Looked down upon the murmur royally, But then came trembling that the time was nigh When he midst pitying looks his love must claim, And jeering voices must salute his name. But as the throng he pierced to gain the throne...
Сторінка 133 - So wrapped she is in new unbroken bliss : Made happy that the foe the prize hath won. She weeps glad tears for all her glory done. SHATTER the trumpet, hew adown the posts ! Upon the brazen altar break the sword, And scatter incense to appease the ghosts Of those who died here by their own award. Bring forth the image of the mighty Lord, And her who unseen o'er the runners hung, And did a deed for ever to be sung. Here are the gathered folk, make no delay, Open King Schoeneus...