Poems, Том 1Ticknor, Reed, and Fields, 1854 |
Из књиге
Резултати 1-5 од 19
Страница 73
... the surly village - churls , And the red cloaks of market - girls , Pass onward from Shalott . VOL . I. Sometimes a troop of damsels glad , An abbot on an ambling pad , 6 Sometimes a curly shepherd - lad , Or long - THE LADY OF SHALOTT .
... the surly village - churls , And the red cloaks of market - girls , Pass onward from Shalott . VOL . I. Sometimes a troop of damsels glad , An abbot on an ambling pad , 6 Sometimes a curly shepherd - lad , Or long - THE LADY OF SHALOTT .
Страница 82
... pass , And runlets babbling down the glen . She breathed in sleep a lower moan , And murmuring , as at night and morn , She thought , " My spirit is here alone , Walks forgotten , and is forlorn . " V. Dreaming , she knew it was a dream ...
... pass , And runlets babbling down the glen . She breathed in sleep a lower moan , And murmuring , as at night and morn , She thought , " My spirit is here alone , Walks forgotten , and is forlorn . " V. Dreaming , she knew it was a dream ...
Страница 83
... pass the door , To look at her with slight , and say , " But now thy beauty flows away , So be alone for evermore . " " O cruel heart , " she changed her tone , " And cruel love , whose end is scorn , Is this the end to be left alone ...
... pass the door , To look at her with slight , and say , " But now thy beauty flows away , So be alone for evermore . " " O cruel heart , " she changed her tone , " And cruel love , whose end is scorn , Is this the end to be left alone ...
Страница 100
... - angered with my happy lot , The day , when in the chestnut shade I found the blue Forget - me - not . Love that hath us in the net , Can he pass , and we forget ? 1 Many suns arise and set . Many a chance the 100 THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER .
... - angered with my happy lot , The day , when in the chestnut shade I found the blue Forget - me - not . Love that hath us in the net , Can he pass , and we forget ? 1 Many suns arise and set . Many a chance the 100 THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER .
Страница 116
... how canst thou see my face ? O happy earth , how canst thou bear my weight ? O death , death , death , thou ever - floating cloud , There are enough unhappy on this earth ; Pass by the happy souls , that love to live 116 CENONE .
... how canst thou see my face ? O happy earth , how canst thou bear my weight ? O death , death , death , thou ever - floating cloud , There are enough unhappy on this earth ; Pass by the happy souls , that love to live 116 CENONE .
Друга издања - Прикажи све
Чести термини и фразе
Adeline adown beneath betwixt blazoned blessed blow breast breath brow call me early Camelot cheek cloud crown dark Dear mother Ida death deep Dipt door Dora dream drew DYING SWAN Earl was fair earth Eleänore Enone evermore Excalibur eyes face faint fall floating flow flowers folds thy grave forlorn garden golden prime goose green that folds hand harken ere Haroun Alraschid hath hear heard heart Heaven hills hollow King Arthur kiss Lady Clara Vere Lady of Shalott land lean Let them rave light Lilian lips look mermen moon morn never night o'er Oriana PALACE OF ART Queen rose round sang shadow shallop silver SIMEON STYLITES sing sitting sleep slowly smile song soul sound spake spirit star stept stood stream sweet tears thee thine things thou thought Vere de Vere voice wander weary weep wild wind words
Популарни одломци
Страница 215 - If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
Страница 210 - What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?' And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: 'I heard the ripple washing in the reeds, And the wild water lapping on the crag.
Страница 216 - So said he, and the barge with oar and sail Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere Revolving many memories, till the hull Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn, And on the mere the wailing died away.
Страница 150 - There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. Here are cool mosses deep, And thro...
Страница 212 - My wound hath taken cold, and I shall die." So saying, from the pavement he half rose, Slowly, with pain, reclining on his arm, And looking wistfully with wide blue eyes As in a picture. Him Sir Bedivere Remorsefully regarded thro...
Страница 69 - ON either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky ; And thro' the field the road runs by To many-tower'd Camelot ; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro...
Страница 183 - em away. Old year, you must not go; So long as you have been with us, Such joy as you have seen with us, Old year, you shall not go.
Страница 214 - So like a shatter'd column lay the King; Not like that Arthur who, with lance in rest, From spur to plume a star of tournament, Shot thro' the lists at Camelot, and charged Before the eyes of ladies and of kings.
Страница 37 - Over its grave i' the earth so chilly ; Heavily hangs the hollyhock, Heavily hangs the tiger-lily. ii The air is damp, and hush'd, and close, As a sick man's room when he taketh repose An hour before death ; My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves At the moist rich smell of the rotting leaves, And the breath Of the fading edges of box beneath, And the year's last rose. Heavily hangs the broad...
Страница 11 - Her tears fell with the dews at even; Her tears fell ere the dews were dried; She could not look on the sweet heaven, Either at morn or eventide. After the flitting of the bats, When thickest dark did trance the sky, She drew her casement-curtain by, And glanced athwart the glooming flats. 20 She only said, 'The night is dreary, He cometh not,' she said; She said, 'I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!