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Страница 99 - 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 93 - Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades 10 Vext the dim sea : I am become a name ; For always roaming with a hungry heart Much have I seen and known ; cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but honour'd of them all ; And drunk delight of battle with my peers.
Страница 182 - And thro' the mountain-walls A rolling organ-harmony Swells up, and shakes and falls. Then move the trees, the copses nod, Wings flutter, voices hover clear : " O just and faithful knight of God ! Ride on ! the prize is near.
Страница 108 - Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new : That which they have done but earnest of the things that they shall do...
Страница 7 - What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?" And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: f*"" I heard the ripple washing in the reeds \And the wild water lapping on the crag.
Страница 181 - 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 97 - Pleiads, rising thro' the mellow shade, Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid. Here about the beach I wander 'd, nourishing a youth sublime With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time...
Страница 121 - To-day I saw the dragon-fly Come from the wells where he did lie. ' An inner impulse rent the veil Of his old husk : from head to tail Came out clear plates of sapphire mail. ' He dried his wings : like gauze they grew : Thro' crofts and pastures wet with dew A living flash of light he flew.
Страница 104 - Comfort? comfort scorned of devils! this is truth the poet sings, That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things. Drug thy memories, lest thou learn it, lest thy heart be put to proof, In the dead unhappy night, and when the rain is on the roof.