PoemsEdward Moxon, 1833 - 163 страница |
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Страница 10
... . No time hath she to sport and play : A charmed web she weaves alway . A curse is on her , if she stay Her weaving , either night or day , To look down to Camelot . She knows not what the curse may be ; Therefore 10 POEMS .
... . No time hath she to sport and play : A charmed web she weaves alway . A curse is on her , if she stay Her weaving , either night or day , To look down to Camelot . She knows not what the curse may be ; Therefore 10 POEMS .
Страница 12
... nights A funeral , with plumes and lights And music , came from Camelot . Or , when the moon was overhead , Came two young lovers , lately wed : " I am half - sick of shadows , " said The Lady of Shalott . PART THE THIRD . A bowshot ...
... nights A funeral , with plumes and lights And music , came from Camelot . Or , when the moon was overhead , Came two young lovers , lately wed : " I am half - sick of shadows , " said The Lady of Shalott . PART THE THIRD . A bowshot ...
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... night , Below the starry clusters bright , Some bearded meteor , trailing light , Moves over green Shalott . His broad clear brow in sunlight glowed . On burnished hooves his warhorse trode . From underneath his helmet flowed His ...
... night , Below the starry clusters bright , Some bearded meteor , trailing light , Moves over green Shalott . His broad clear brow in sunlight glowed . On burnished hooves his warhorse trode . From underneath his helmet flowed His ...
Страница 21
... night and morn , " Madonna ! lo ! I am all alone , Love - forgotten and love - forlorn . " When the dawncrimson changed , and past Into deep orange o'er the sea , Low on her knees herself she cast , Unto our lady prayed she . She moved ...
... night and morn , " Madonna ! lo ! I am all alone , Love - forgotten and love - forlorn . " When the dawncrimson changed , and past Into deep orange o'er the sea , Low on her knees herself she cast , Unto our lady prayed she . She moved ...
Страница 22
... night and morn , Low she mourned , " I am all alone , Love - forgotten , and love - forlorn . " At noon she slumbered . All along The silvery field , the large leaves talked With one another , as among The spiked maize in dreams she ...
... night and morn , Low she mourned , " I am all alone , Love - forgotten , and love - forlorn . " At noon she slumbered . All along The silvery field , the large leaves talked With one another , as among The spiked maize in dreams she ...
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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