Collected PoemsMacmillan, 1921 - 591 страница |
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... hears Of what we owe to fifty years . His cleansing heritage of taste Paraded neither want nor waste ; And what he needed for his fee To live , he borrowed graciously . He never told us what he was , Or what mischance , or other cause ...
... hears Of what we owe to fifty years . His cleansing heritage of taste Paraded neither want nor waste ; And what he needed for his fee To live , he borrowed graciously . He never told us what he was , Or what mischance , or other cause ...
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... hears Of what we owe to fifty years . His cleansing heritage of taste Paraded neither want nor waste ; And what he needed for his fee To live , he borrowed graciously . He never told us what he was , Or what mischance , or other cause ...
... hears Of what we owe to fifty years . His cleansing heritage of taste Paraded neither want nor waste ; And what he needed for his fee To live , he borrowed graciously . He never told us what he was , Or what mischance , or other cause ...
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... " What ho , my lord ! " say I. He doesn't hear me ; Wherefore I have to pause and look at him . He's not enormous , but one looks at him . A little on the round if you insist , For 23 BEN JONSON ENTERTAINS A MAN FROM STRATFORD.
... " What ho , my lord ! " say I. He doesn't hear me ; Wherefore I have to pause and look at him . He's not enormous , but one looks at him . A little on the round if you insist , For 23 BEN JONSON ENTERTAINS A MAN FROM STRATFORD.
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... hear him talk These days you'd call him eighty ; then you'd add More years to that . He's old enough to be The father of a world , and so he is . " Ben , you're a scholar , what's the time of day ? " Says he ; and there shines out of ...
... hear him talk These days you'd call him eighty ; then you'd add More years to that . He's old enough to be The father of a world , and so he is . " Ben , you're a scholar , what's the time of day ? " Says he ; and there shines out of ...
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... hears , And shakes her head , and has her fears ; Though none may know , by any chance , What rose - leaf ashes of romance Are faintly stirred by later days That would be well enough , she says , If only people were more wise , And ...
... hears , And shakes her head , and has her fears ; Though none may know , by any chance , What rose - leaf ashes of romance Are faintly stirred by later days That would be well enough , she says , If only people were more wise , And ...
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AARON STARK afraid Agravaine alive Arthur Avon Bedivere believe Brittany Broceliande Camelot child Clotho cold coming crown Dagonet dark dead death devil doubt dream earth eternal EUTYCHIDES eyes face faded faith fancy Fate fear felt fire fool forget Forgive frown Gaheris Gawaine gazed ghost glad gleam glory God's gold gone Guinevere half hand hate hear heard hell Isaac Joyous Gard King King Arthur knew Lamorak Lancelot laugh Lazarus leave light listen live look Merlin Modred never night Norcross Old King Cole once pity poor Queen Rembrandt remember Richard Cory seen shadow shining silence singing Sir Dagonet sleep smile song soon soul stars sure tears tell there's things thought Tilbury Town to-day told tonight trees truth Vivian waited wisdom woman wonder words
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Страница 76 - RICHARD CORY WHENEVER Richard Cory went down town, We people on the pavement looked at him : He was a gentleman from sole to crown, Clean favored, and imperially slim. , And he was always quietly arrayed, And he was always human when he talked; But still he fluttered pulses when he said, "Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.
Страница 318 - Miniver mourned the ripe renown That made so many a name so fragrant; He mourned Romance, now on the town, And Art, a vagrant. Miniver loved the Medici, Albeit he had never seen one; He would have sinned incessantly Could he have been one. Miniver cursed the commonplace And eyed a khaki suit with loathing; He missed the mediaeval grace Of iron clothing. Miniver scorned the gold he sought, But sore annoyed was he without it; Miniver thought, and thought, and thought, And thought about it. Miniver...
Страница 329 - And the men of the city said unto him on the seventh day before the sun went down, What is sweeter than honey ? and what is stronger than a lion...
Страница 535 - Mr. Flood's Party Old Eben Flood, climbing alone one night Over the hill between the town below And the forsaken upland hermitage That held as much as he should ever know On earth again of home, paused warily. The road was his with not a native near; And Eben, having leisure, said aloud, For no man else in Tilbury Town to hear: "Well, Mr. Flood, we have the harvest moon Again, and we may not have many more; The bird is on the wing, the poet says, And you and I have said it here before. Drink to the...
Страница 28 - SHE fears him, and will always ask What fated her to choose him; She meets in his engaging mask All reasons to refuse him; But what she meets and what she fears Are less than are the downward years, Drawn slowly to the foamless weirs Of age, were she to lose him.
Страница 24 - Your fly will serve as well as anybody, And what's his hour? He flies, and flies, and flies, And in his fly's mind has a brave appearance; And then your spider gets him in her net, And eats him out, and hangs him up to dry. That's Nature, the kind mother of us all. And then your slattern housemaid swings her broom, And where's your spider? And that's Nature, also. It's Nature, and it's Nothing. It's all Nothing. It's...
Страница 329 - And after a time he returned to take her, and he turned aside to see the carcase of the lion: and, behold, there was a swarm of bees and honey in the carcase of the lion.
Страница 84 - I did not think that I should find them there When I came back again; but there they stood, As in the days they dreamed of when young blood Was in their cheeks and women called them fair. Be sure they met me with an ancient air, — And yes, there was a shop-worn brotherhood About them; but the men were just as good, And just as human as they ever were.
Страница 20 - Ben, you're a scholar, what's the time of day?" Says he : and there shines out of him again An aged light that has no age or station — The mystery that's his — a mischievous Half-mad serenity that laughs at fame For being won so easy, and at friends Who laugh at him for what he wants the most, And for his dukedom down in Warwickshire ; — By which you see we're all a little jealous.