Many Moods: A Volume of VerseSmith, Elder & Company, 1878 - 254 страница |
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Anticyra Antinous ARISTODEMUS art thou beauty beneath bliss bloom blossoms boughs breast breath brows Callicrates calm cold CRATINUS cried Crown 8vo darkness dawn dead dear Death deep divine doom doth dream earth ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING eyes fade faint fair feet fire flame flowers gaze gloom gods grey hath heart heaven HEROON hour Iroldo JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS kisses life's light lily lion king lips live love's lovers morn mortal mountains Mürren neath night nightingale nought o'er pain pale Palumba Pausanias Prasildo rose scent shine Sicilian expedition sighs silent silver sing skies sleep slumber smile song sorrow soul spake Sparta sphere spirit splendour stars stirred stream strong summer sweet Symonds Taygetus tears thee thine thought thrill throbbing tomb TOMMASO CAMPANELLA unto voice Waterloo Place waves whereof wild wind Wind-flowers wings yearning youth
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Страница 209 - Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose ! That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the branches sang, Ah whence, and whither flown again, who knows...
Страница 148 - Death, thou art a shadow ! Even as light Is but the shadow of invisible God, And of that shade the shadow is thin Night, Veiling the earth whereon our feet have trod ; So art Thou but the shadow of this life, Itself the pale and unsubstantial shade Of living God, fulfilled by love and strife Throughout the universe Himself hath made : And as frail Night, following the flight of earth, Obscures the world we breathe in, for a while, So Thou, the reflex of our mortal birth, Veilest the life wherein...
Страница 6 - About your feet the myrtles will be set, Grey rosemary, and thyme, and tender blue Of love-pale labyrinthine violet ; Flame-born anemones will glitter through Dark aisles of roofing pine-trees ; and for you The golden jonquil and starred asphodel And hyacinth their speechless tales will tell. The nightingales for you their tremulous song Shall pour amid the snowy scented bloom Of wild acacia bowers, and all night long Through starlight-flooded spheres of purple gloom Still lemon boughs shall spread...
Страница 195 - Give freely to the friend thou hast; Unto thyself thou givest: On barren soil thou canst not cast, For by his life thou livest. Nay, this alone doth trouble me — That I should still be giving Through him unto myself, when he Is love within me living. I fain would give to him alone, Nor let him guess the giver; Like dews that drop on hills unknown, To feed a lordly river.
Страница 19 - That day the master at his easel Wielded the liberal brush wherewith he painted At Orvieto, on the Duomo's walls, Stern forms of Death and Heaven and Hell and Judgment Then came they to him, cried : ' Thy son is dead, Slain in a duel : but the bloom of life Yet lingers round red lips and downy cheek.' Luca spoke not, but listened. Next they bore His dead son to the silent painting-room, And left on tiptoe son and sire alone. Still Luca spoke and groaned not ; but he raised The wonderful dead youth,...
Страница 19 - VASARI tells that Luca Signorelli, The morning star of Michael Angelo, Had but one son, a youth of seventeen summers, Who died. That day the master at his easel Wielded the liberal brush wherewith he painted At Orvieto, on the Duomo's walls, Stern forms of Death and Heaven and Hell and Judgment. Then came they to him, and cried: "Thy son is dead, Slain in a duel ; but the bloom of life Yet lingers round red lips and downy cheek.
Страница iii - The theft is to the thief, and comes back most to him, The love is to the lover, and comes back most to him, The gift is to the giver, and comes back most to him...
Страница 5 - Ravenna in her widowhood — the waste Where dreams a withered ocean ; where the hand Of time has gently played with tombs defaced Of priest and emperor ; where the temples stand, Proud. in decay, in desolation grand, — Solemn and sad like clouds that lingeringly Sail and are loth to fade upon the sky: Siena, Bride of Solitude, whose eyes Are lifted o'er the russet hills to scan Immeasurable tracts of limpid skies, Arching those silent sullen plains where man Fades like a weed mid mouldering marshes...
Страница 194 - Tis the greed To grasp, the hunger to assimilate All that earth holds of fair and delicate, The lust to blend with beauteous lives, to feed And take our fill of loveliness, which breed This anguish of the soul intern parate.