PoemsEdward Moxon, 1833 - 163 страница |
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... shattered spars , with sudden fires Flamed over at Trafalgar yet once more We taught him : late he learned humility Perforce , like those whom Gideon schooled with briars . SONNET . I. O BEAUTY , passing beauty ! sweetest POEMS . 5.
... shattered spars , with sudden fires Flamed over at Trafalgar yet once more We taught him : late he learned humility Perforce , like those whom Gideon schooled with briars . SONNET . I. O BEAUTY , passing beauty ! sweetest POEMS . 5.
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... fire and active might , In a silent meditation , Falling into a still delight , And luxury of contemplation : As waves that from the outer deep Roll into a quiet cove , There fall away , and lying still , Having glorious dreams in sleep ...
... fire and active might , In a silent meditation , Falling into a still delight , And luxury of contemplation : As waves that from the outer deep Roll into a quiet cove , There fall away , and lying still , Having glorious dreams in sleep ...
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... fire creeps Through my veins to all my frame , Dissolvingly and slowly soon From thy rose - red lips My name Floweth ; then I faint , I swoon , With dinning sound my ears are rife , My tremulous tongue faltereth , I lose my colour , I ...
... fire creeps Through my veins to all my frame , Dissolvingly and slowly soon From thy rose - red lips My name Floweth ; then I faint , I swoon , With dinning sound my ears are rife , My tremulous tongue faltereth , I lose my colour , I ...
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... fires your narrow casementglass , Touching the sullen pool below . On the chalk - hill the bearded grass Is dry and dewless . Let us go . Φαίνεταί μοι κῆνος ἴσος θεοῖσιν Εμμεν ἀνήρ . SAPPHO . THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER . 47.
... fires your narrow casementglass , Touching the sullen pool below . On the chalk - hill the bearded grass Is dry and dewless . Let us go . Φαίνεταί μοι κῆνος ἴσος θεοῖσιν Εμμεν ἀνήρ . SAPPHO . THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER . 47.
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... II . Last night , when some one spoke his name , From my swift blood , that went and came , A thousand little shafts of flame Were shivered in my narrow frame . O Love , O fire ! once he drew With 48 POEMS . O Love, Love, Love! 8 20 25 33.
... II . Last night , when some one spoke his name , From my swift blood , that went and came , A thousand little shafts of flame Were shivered in my narrow frame . O Love , O fire ! once he drew With 48 POEMS . O Love, Love, Love! 8 20 25 33.
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Ambrosial Aphrodite April skies beauty beneath blazoned blue bold breath bright brow burning call me early charmèd cheek cowslip cuckooflower dark darkblue daughter Dear mother Ida death deep delight divine dream Earl was fair Eleänore Enone ere I die evermore eyes face fall Father Hesper fire flame flash floating flower foam folded Ganymede glad Newyear gleaming golden apple green hath hear heard hearken ere heart hill hollow holy Kate kiss Lady of Shalott land lawn leaning light lips look Lotos Love-forgotten and love-forlorn Madonna mignonette moon morn mourn night o'er PALACE OF ART Queen ripen Rolled Rosalind rosy round Sang shadow shore sing sleep slope slowly smile song SONNET sorrow soul sound stars stood stream sweet tall tears thee thine thou thought thro toil towered Camelot tree voice wander wave weary weep whisper wild wind Ye'll
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Страница 108 - moon ; And like a downward smoke, the slender stream Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem. II. A land of streams ! some, like a downward smoke, Slowdropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go ; And some thro' wavering- lights and shadows broke, Kolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below. They saw the gleaming
Страница 15 - Sang Sir Launcelot. She left the web : she left the loom : She made three paces thro' the room : She saw the waterflower bloom : She saw the helmet and the plume : She looked down to Camelot. Out flew the web, and floated wide, The mirror cracked from side to side, " The curse is come upon me,
Страница 12 - And sometimes thro' the mirror blue, The knights come riding-, two and two. She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott. But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights : For often thro' the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights And music, came from
Страница 15 - bloom : She saw the helmet and the plume : She looked down to Camelot. Out flew the web, and floated wide, The mirror cracked from side to side, " The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott. PART THE FOURTH. In the stormy eastwind straining The pale-yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Страница 109 - mountain clefts the dale Was seen far inland, and the yellow down Bordered with palm, and many a winding vale And meadow, set with slender galingale ; A land where all things always seemed the same I And round about the keel with faces pale, Dark faces pale against that rosy flame, The mildeyed melancholy Lotos-eaters came.
Страница 108 - This mounting' wave will roll us shoreward soon." In the afternoon they came unto a land, In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.
Страница 111 - the emeraldcoloured water falling Thro' many a wov'n acanthus-wreath divine ! Only to hear and see the far-off sparkling brine, Only to hear were sweet, stretched out beneath the pine. The Lotos blooms below the flowery peak: The Lotos blows by every winding creek : All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone
Страница 94 - be of all the year the maddest merriest day, For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be NEWYEAR'S EVE. IF you're waking call me early, call me early, mother dear, For I would see the sun rise upon the glad Newyear. It is the last Newyear that I shall ever see, Then
Страница 97 - never see me more in the long gray fields at When from the dry dark wold the summer airs blow cool, On the oatgrass and the swordgrass, and the bulrush in the pool. Ye'll bury me, my mother, just beneath the hawthorn shade, And ye'll come sometimes and see me where I
Страница 111 - The Lotos blooms below the flowery peak: The Lotos blows by every winding creek : All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone : Thro' every hollow cave and alley lone Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos dust is blown. We have had enough of