Poems, Том 1Edward Moxon, 1842 - 231 страница |
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Страница 47
... mother plant in semblance , grew A flower all gold , And bravely furnish'd all abroad to fling The winged shafts of truth , To throng with stately blooms the breathing spring Of Hope and Youth . So many minds did gird their orbs with ...
... mother plant in semblance , grew A flower all gold , And bravely furnish'd all abroad to fling The winged shafts of truth , To throng with stately blooms the breathing spring Of Hope and Youth . So many minds did gird their orbs with ...
Страница 88
... " III . Till all the crimson changed , and past Into deep orange o'er the sea , Low on her knees herself she cast , Before Our Lady murmur'd she ; Complaining , " Mother , give me grace To help 88 MARIANA IN THE SOUTH .
... " III . Till all the crimson changed , and past Into deep orange o'er the sea , Low on her knees herself she cast , Before Our Lady murmur'd she ; Complaining , " Mother , give me grace To help 88 MARIANA IN THE SOUTH .
Страница 89
Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson. Complaining , " Mother , give me grace To help me of my weary load . ” And on the liquid mirror glow'd The clear perfection of her face . " Is this the form , " she made her moan , " That won his praises ...
Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson. Complaining , " Mother , give me grace To help me of my weary load . ” And on the liquid mirror glow'd The clear perfection of her face . " Is this the form , " she made her moan , " That won his praises ...
Страница 90
... blinding wall . She whisper'd , with a stifled moan More inward than at night or morn , " Sweet Mother , let me not here alone , Live forgotten and die forlorn . " VI . And , rising , from her bosom drew 90 MARIANA IN THE SOUTH .
... blinding wall . She whisper'd , with a stifled moan More inward than at night or morn , " Sweet Mother , let me not here alone , Live forgotten and die forlorn . " VI . And , rising , from her bosom drew 90 MARIANA IN THE SOUTH .
Страница 106
... light . I loved , and love dispell'd the fear That I should die an early death : For love possess'd the atmosphere , And fill'd the breast with purer breath . My mother thought , What ails the boy ? For 106 THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER .
... light . I loved , and love dispell'd the fear That I should die an early death : For love possess'd the atmosphere , And fill'd the breast with purer breath . My mother thought , What ails the boy ? For 106 THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER .
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Adeline adown ambrosial ARABIAN NIGHTS beauty beneath blow breath brow call me early Camelot cheek cloud dark dead Dear mother Ida death deep dream DYING SWAN Earl was fair earth Eleänore Enone evermore eyes faint fall flame floating flowers folds thy grave forlorn gazing golden prime goose green that folds harken ere Haroun Alraschid hath hear heard heart Heaven Heavily hangs hills hollow kiss Lady Clara Vere Lady of Shalott land lawn Let them rave light Lilian lips live forgotten look'd mermen merrily mind moan moon morn night o'er Oriana POEMS Queen roll'd rose round saw thro seem'd shadow shallop silent silver sing sleep slowly smile song soul sound spake spirit star stept sweet Sweet Alice tears thee thine thou thought throne turret and tree Vere de Vere voice wander weary weep wild wind wold
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Страница 86 - ... of Shalott. Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, Dead-pale between the houses high, Silent into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and burgher, lord and dame, And round the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott.
Страница 158 - Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
Страница 175 - Breathing like one that hath a weary dream. Full-faced above the valley stood the moon; And like a downward smoke, the slender stream Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem. A land of streams! some, like a downward smoke, Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go; And some thro' wavering lights and shadows broke, Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below.
Страница 182 - Before them of the ten years' war in Troy, And our great deeds, as half-forgotten things. Is there confusion in the little isle? Let what is broken so remain. The Gods are hard to reconcile: 'Tis hard to settle order once again. There is confusion worse than death, Trouble on trouble, pain on pain, Long...
Страница 46 - THE poet in a golden clime was born, W.ith golden stars above ; Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.
Страница 213 - Tis nearly twelve o'clock. Shake hands, before you die. Old year, we'll dearly rue for you : What is it we can do for you ? Speak out before you die. His face is growing sharp and thin. Alack ! our friend is gone. Close up his eyes : tie up his chin : Step from the corpse, and let him in That standeth there alone, And waiteth at the door. There's a new foot on the floor, my friend, And a new face at the door, my friend, A new face at the door.
Страница 183 - We have had enough of action, and of motion we, Roll'd to starboard, roll'd to larboard, when the surge was seething free, Where the wallowing monster spouted his foamfountains in the sea. Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind, In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind.
Страница 162 - The night-winds come and go, mother, upon the meadow-grass, And the happy stars above them seem to brighten as they pass ; There will not be a drop of rain the whole of the livelong day, And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o
Страница 161 - I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. Little Effie shall go with me to-morrow to the green, And you'll be there too, mother, to see me made the Queen ; For the shepherd lads on every side 'ill come from far away, And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o
Страница 78 - 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' the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls, and four gray towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott.