British Poems, from "Canterbury Tales" to "Recessional"C. Scribner's sons, 1912 - 537 страница |
Из књиге
Резултати 1-5 од 60
Страница 53
... breast oppresseth For Tereus ' force on her chaste will prevailing . O Philomela fair , O take some gladness , That here is juster cause of plaintful sadness : Thine earth now springs , mine fadeth ; Thy thorn without , my thorn my ...
... breast oppresseth For Tereus ' force on her chaste will prevailing . O Philomela fair , O take some gladness , That here is juster cause of plaintful sadness : Thine earth now springs , mine fadeth ; Thy thorn without , my thorn my ...
Страница 76
... breast ; My kisses are his daily feast , And yet he robs me of my rest : Ah ! wanton , will ye ? And if I sleep , then percheth he With pretty flight , And makes his pillow of my knee The livelong night 76 BRITISH POEMS.
... breast ; My kisses are his daily feast , And yet he robs me of my rest : Ah ! wanton , will ye ? And if I sleep , then percheth he With pretty flight , And makes his pillow of my knee The livelong night 76 BRITISH POEMS.
Страница 78
... breast His throne . ROBERT GREENE [ 1560 ? -1592 ] SEPHESTIA'S SONG WEEP not , my wanton , smile upon my knee , When thou art old there's grief enough for thee . Mother's wag , pretty boy , Father's sorrow , father's joy ; When thy ...
... breast His throne . ROBERT GREENE [ 1560 ? -1592 ] SEPHESTIA'S SONG WEEP not , my wanton , smile upon my knee , When thou art old there's grief enough for thee . Mother's wag , pretty boy , Father's sorrow , father's joy ; When thy ...
Страница 80
... breast the furnace is , the fuel wounding thorns ; Love is the fire and sighs the smoke , the ashes shame and scorns ; The fuel Justice layeth on , and Mercy blows the coals ; The metal in this furnace wrought are men's defilèd souls ...
... breast the furnace is , the fuel wounding thorns ; Love is the fire and sighs the smoke , the ashes shame and scorns ; The fuel Justice layeth on , and Mercy blows the coals ; The metal in this furnace wrought are men's defilèd souls ...
Страница 87
... breast , And , with still panting rockt , there took his rest . So lovely - fair was Hero , Venus ' nun , As Nature wept , thinking she was undone , Because she took more from her than she left , And of such wondrous beauty her bereft ...
... breast , And , with still panting rockt , there took his rest . So lovely - fair was Hero , Venus ' nun , As Nature wept , thinking she was undone , Because she took more from her than she left , And of such wondrous beauty her bereft ...
Садржај
85 | |
105 | |
113 | |
120 | |
126 | |
131 | |
139 | |
147 | |
151 | |
157 | |
169 | |
179 | |
186 | |
199 | |
208 | |
221 | |
228 | |
235 | |
245 | |
354 | |
367 | |
412 | |
413 | |
433 | |
439 | |
446 | |
452 | |
459 | |
471 | |
490 | |
508 | |
516 | |
524 | |
529 | |
531 | |
532 | |
535 | |
Друга издања - Прикажи све
Чести термини и фразе
AE FOND KISS Antistrophe ARTEMIDORA auld lang syne beauty beneath bird blow Bonny Dundee breast breath bright Camelot cloud cold dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth eternal Excalibur eyes face fair fear flowers glory golden gone grave green grief Grongar Hill hair hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven hill HOUNDS OF SPRING hour King King Arthur kiss Lady Lady of Shalott land leaves light live look Lord love's lute Lycidas lyre moon ne'er never night o'er once pain pale praise pride rose round Samian wine shade shore sigh sight silent sing Sir Bedivere sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars stood stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thro tree twas unto voice wave weep wild wind wings youth
Популарни одломци
Страница 470 - One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep to wake. No, at noonday in the bustle of man's work-time Greet the unseen with a cheer ! Bid him forward, breast and back as either should be, " Strive and thrive ! " cry " Speed, — fight on, fare ever There as here...
Страница 312 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart : Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea : Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou...
Страница 387 - Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed: And on the pedestal these words appear : 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair !
Страница 153 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That had'st thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, —...
Страница 390 - Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
Страница 101 - CXLVI. Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, Fool'd by those rebel powers that thee array, Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay ? Why so large cost, having so short a lease, Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ? Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Eat up thy charge ? Is this thy body's end ? Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, And let that pine to aggravate thy store ; Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross ; Within be fed,...
Страница 341 - O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been Alone on a wide, wide sea; So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be. O sweeter than the marriage-feast, 'Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company! — To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay! Farewell, farewell! but this I tell To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
Страница 528 - If, drunk with sight of power, we loose. Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe. Such boastings as the Gentiles use. Or lesser breeds without the Law — Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget — lest we forget! For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard, All valiant dust that builds on dust, And guarding, calls not Thee to guard, For frantic boast and foolish word — Thy mercy on Thy People, Lord!
Страница 308 - Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair ; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn ; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay. I saw her upon nearer view, A Spirit, yet a Woman too ! Her household motions light and free, And steps of virgin-liberty ; A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet ; A Creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food ; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses,...
Страница 248 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team afield...