The Works of Alfred, Lord TennysonMacmillan, 1908 - 900 страница |
Из књиге
Резултати 1-5 од 10
Страница 256
... Sir Bedivere uplifted him , Sir Bedivere the last of all his knights , And bore him to a chapel nigh the field , A broken chancel with a broken cross , That stood on a dark strait of barren land . On one side lay the Ocean , and on one ...
... Sir Bedivere uplifted him , Sir Bedivere the last of all his knights , And bore him to a chapel nigh the field , A broken chancel with a broken cross , That stood on a dark strait of barren land . On one side lay the Ocean , and on one ...
Страница 257
... Sir Bedivere : ' It is not meet , Sir King , to leave thee thus , Aidless , alone , and smitten thro ' the helm . A little thing may harm a wounded man . Yet I thy hest will all perform at full , Watch what I see , and lightly bring ...
... Sir Bedivere : ' It is not meet , Sir King , to leave thee thus , Aidless , alone , and smitten thro ' the helm . A little thing may harm a wounded man . Yet I thy hest will all perform at full , Watch what I see , and lightly bring ...
Страница 258
... Sir Bedivere : ' Hast thou perform'd my mission which I gave ? What is it thou hast seen ? or what hast heard ? ' And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : ' I 258 MORTE D'ARTHUR .
... Sir Bedivere : ' Hast thou perform'd my mission which I gave ? What is it thou hast seen ? or what hast heard ? ' And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : ' I 258 MORTE D'ARTHUR .
Страница 259
... Sir Bedivere the second time Across the ridge , and paced beside the mere , Counting the dewy pebbles , fix'd in thought ; But when he saw the wonder of the hilt , How curiously and strangely chased , he smote His palms together , and ...
... Sir Bedivere the second time Across the ridge , and paced beside the mere , Counting the dewy pebbles , fix'd in thought ; But when he saw the wonder of the hilt , How curiously and strangely chased , he smote His palms together , and ...
Страница 260
... Sir Bedivere : ' I heard the water lapping on the crag , And the long ripple washing in the reeds . ' To whom replied King Arthur , much in wrath : 260 MORTE D'ARTHUR .
... Sir Bedivere : ' I heard the water lapping on the crag , And the long ripple washing in the reeds . ' To whom replied King Arthur , much in wrath : 260 MORTE D'ARTHUR .
Садржај
1 | |
56 | |
99 | |
103 | |
114 | |
122 | |
145 | |
156 | |
169 | |
187 | |
206 | |
213 | |
228 | |
237 | |
253 | |
314 | |
330 | |
339 | |
347 | |
364 | |
372 | |
378 | |
384 | |
390 | |
559 | |
565 | |
571 | |
577 | |
583 | |
589 | |
595 | |
618 | |
627 | |
678 | |
712 | |
734 | |
744 | |
753 | |
763 | |
Друга издања - Прикажи све
Чести термини и фразе
ALFRED LORD TENNYSON answer'd Aylmer beneath blood blow Bluebeard breast breath brow Camelot cheek child cloud dark dead death deep dipt Dora dream earth EDWIN MORRIS evermore Excalibur eyes face fair fall fire flower fluttering tongues folded golden gray green hand happy harken ere hath hear heard heart heaven hills hour King King Arthur kiss kiss'd knew Lady of Shalott land light lips little birdie live Locksley Hall look look'd Lord Mablethorpe mind moon morn never night o'er once Oriana Queen roll'd rose round scorn seem'd shadow shining silent SIMEON STYLITES sing Sir Bedivere sleep slowly smile song soul sound spake speak spirit stars stept stood summer sweet tears thee thine things thou thought thro towers turn'd unto vext voice weary weep wife wild wind words yonder
Популарни одломци
Страница 540 - Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and shell, While horse and hero fell, They that had fought so well Came thro...
Страница 350 - Love took up the glass of Time, and turn'd it in his glowing hands ; Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands. Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might ; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.
Страница 209 - Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height; To hear each other's whisper'd speech; Eating the Lotos day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray; To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mild-minded melancholy...
Страница 394 - A maiden Knight — to me is given Such hope, I know not fear; I yearn to breathe the airs of Heaven That often meet me here. I muse on joy that will not cease, Pure spaces clothed in living beams, Pure lilies of eternal peace, Whose...
Страница 2 - Her court was pure; her life serene; God gave her peace; her land reposed; A thousand claims to reverence closed In her as Mother, Wife, and Queen; 'And statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons when to take Occasion by the hand, and make The bounds of freedom wider yet 'By shaping some august decree, Which kept her throne unshaken still, Broad-based upon her people's will, And compass'd by the inviolate sea.
Страница 132 - I cannot hide that some have striven, Achieving calm, to whom was given The joy that mixes man with Heaven; 'Who, rowing hard against the stream, Saw distant gates of Eden gleam, And did not dream it was a dream...
Страница 601 - Speak to Him thou for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet — Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet. God is law, say the wise ; O Soul, and let us rejoice, For if He thunder by law the thunder is yet His voice. Law is God, say some : no God at all, says...
Страница 455 - I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally, And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Страница 538 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns," he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Страница 176 - And one, an English home— gray twilight pour'd On dewy pastures, dewy trees, Softer than sleep — all things in order stored, A haunt of ancient Peace.