The Vision of Sir Launfal, and Other PoemsAllyn & Bacon, 1900 - 72 страница |
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... beauty of the Arthurian Legends , stirred deeply by the great lesson to man , which he saw in and around the dim story , and possessed for months with the idea as the theme for a great narrative poem , Lowell , like the prophets of old ...
... beauty of the Arthurian Legends , stirred deeply by the great lesson to man , which he saw in and around the dim story , and possessed for months with the idea as the theme for a great narrative poem , Lowell , like the prophets of old ...
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... Beauty Which runs through all and doth all unite , The hand cannot clasp the whole of his alms , The heart outstretches its eager palms , For a god goes with it and makes it store To the soul that was starving in darkness before . " 165 ...
... Beauty Which runs through all and doth all unite , The hand cannot clasp the whole of his alms , The heart outstretches its eager palms , For a god goes with it and makes it store To the soul that was starving in darkness before . " 165 ...
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... beauty's right divine , Veil in their inner cells a mystic gift , Which , like the hazel twig , in faithful hands , Points surely to the hidden springs of truth . For , as in nature naught is made in vain , 20 But all things have within ...
... beauty's right divine , Veil in their inner cells a mystic gift , Which , like the hazel twig , in faithful hands , Points surely to the hidden springs of truth . For , as in nature naught is made in vain , 20 But all things have within ...
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... beauty still As the immortal freshness of that grace Carved for all ages on some Attic frieze . A youth named Rhocus , wandering in the wood , Saw an old oak just trembling to its fall , And , feeling pity of so fair a tree , He propped ...
... beauty still As the immortal freshness of that grace Carved for all ages on some Attic frieze . A youth named Rhocus , wandering in the wood , Saw an old oak just trembling to its fall , And , feeling pity of so fair a tree , He propped ...
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... beauty , bold , Answered : " What is there that can satisfy The endless craving of the soul but love ? Give me thy love , or but the hope of that Which must be evermore my nature's goal . " After a little pause she said again , 55 60 65 ...
... beauty , bold , Answered : " What is there that can satisfy The endless craving of the soul but love ? Give me thy love , or but the hope of that Which must be evermore my nature's goal . " After a little pause she said again , 55 60 65 ...
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VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL James Russell 1819-1891 Lowell,Frank Herbert 1858 Palmer Приказ није доступан - 2016 |
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agin authors bard beauty Biglow Papers Boston boughs breath breeze Bryant cloud corbel COURTIN crashing doth Dryad earth editor Emerson England eyes FABLE FOR CRITICS flowers Fortunate Isles gate genius Gineral GIOTTO gives glooms gold grass Greek green Guvener happy Harmodius and Aristogeiton Harvardiana hath heart heaven Hesperides High School Holy Grail inspiration Joseph of Arimathea leaves leper lines literary look Lowell Lowell's maiden murmur Nathan Hale nature ne'er neath never nevermore night North American Review o'er Offero Ohio State University Pages paragraph pine poem poet poet's pupils quiet rhetoric Rhocus Robinson he Sez round seemed silence sing Sir Galahad Sir Launfal soul stirred stood storm summer sunshine Sybaris TENNYSON thee there's thet thine thing Thou thought thy branches tion tree Twas verse VISION OF SIR voice vote fer warm wind wood word writing young
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Страница 2 - The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest,— In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best?
Страница 56 - The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sear. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread...
Страница 60 - St Agnes' Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold ; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold : Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while...
Страница 2 - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays : Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
Страница 64 - My childhood's earliest thoughts are linked with thee ; The sight of thee calls back the robin's song, Who, from the dark old tree Beside the door, sang clearly all day long, And I, secure in childish piety, Listened as if I heard an angel sing With news from heaven, which he could bring Fresh every day to my untainted ears When birds and flowers and I were happy peers.
Страница 12 - The Holy Supper is kept, indeed, In whatso we share with another's need; Not what we give, but what we share, For the gift without the giver is bare; Who gives himself with his alms feeds three, Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.
Страница 50 - He's ben true to one party, — an' thet is himself;— So John P. Robinson he ao Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C. Gineral C. he goes in fer the war; He don't vally principle more 'n an old cud; Wut did God make us raytional creeturs fer, But glory an' gunpowder, plunder an
Страница 3 - How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell, We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing That skies are clear and grass is growing. The breeze comes whispering in our ear That dandelions are blossoming near. That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing. That the river is bluer than the sky, That the robin is plastering his house hard by...
Страница 59 - The cup, the cup itself, from which our Lord Drank at the last sad supper with his own. This, from the blessed land of Aromat — After the day of darkness, when the dead Went wandering o'er Moriah — the good saint...
Страница 12 - As Sir Launfal mused with a downcast face, A light shone round about the place ; The leper no longer crouched at his side, But stood before him glorified, Shining and tall and fair and straight As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful Gate, — Himself the Gate whereby men can Enter the temple of God in Man.