The Leading English Poets from Chaucer to BrowningHoughton Mifflin, 1915 - 918 страница |
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Страница 24
... hand en- haunst : The stroke down from her head unto her shoulder glaunst . XVIII Much daunted with that dint , her sence was dazd , Yet kindling rage her selfe she gathered round , And all attonce her beastly bodie raizd With doubled ...
... hand en- haunst : The stroke down from her head unto her shoulder glaunst . XVIII Much daunted with that dint , her sence was dazd , Yet kindling rage her selfe she gathered round , And all attonce her beastly bodie raizd With doubled ...
Страница 31
... hand . He , prickte with pride And hope to winne his ladies hearte that day , Forth spurred fast : adowne his coursers side The red bloud trickling staind the way , as he did ride . XV The Knight of the Redcrosse , when him he spide ...
... hand . He , prickte with pride And hope to winne his ladies hearte that day , Forth spurred fast : adowne his coursers side The red bloud trickling staind the way , as he did ride . XV The Knight of the Redcrosse , when him he spide ...
Страница 34
... hand All other dames to have exceded farre ; I in defence of mine did likewise stand , Mine , that did then shine as the morning starre : So both to batteill fierce arraunged arre ; In which his harder fortune was to fall Under my ...
... hand All other dames to have exceded farre ; I in defence of mine did likewise stand , Mine , that did then shine as the morning starre : So both to batteill fierce arraunged arre ; In which his harder fortune was to fall Under my ...
Страница 41
... hand of that same Paynim bold , From whom her booteth not at all to flie ; Who , by her cleanly garment catching hold , Her from her palfrey pluckt , her visage to behold . XLI But her fiers servant , full of kingly aw And high disdaine ...
... hand of that same Paynim bold , From whom her booteth not at all to flie ; Who , by her cleanly garment catching hold , Her from her palfrey pluckt , her visage to behold . XLI But her fiers servant , full of kingly aw And high disdaine ...
Страница 44
... hand his portesse still he bare , That much was worne , but therein little redd ; For of devotion he had little care , Still drownd in sleepe , and most of his daies dedd : Scarse could he once uphold his heavie hedd , To looken whether ...
... hand his portesse still he bare , That much was worne , but therein little redd ; For of devotion he had little care , Still drownd in sleepe , and most of his daies dedd : Scarse could he once uphold his heavie hedd , To looken whether ...
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The Leading English Poets from Chaucer to Browning: Edited, with ... Lucius Hudson Holt Приказ није доступан - 2017 |
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Archimago arms beauty beneath blood breast breath bright brow Camelot cloud courser Dæmons dark dead dear death deep doth dread dream earth Elfin knight eyes face fair fear fire flowers Gareth Gawain gaze gentle glory grace grone Guinevere hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill holy hope hour King King Arthur lady Lady of Shalott Lancelot Lavaine leave light live look lord maid mighty mind mordre morning never night nymph o'er once Oxus pain pass Publ Queen rest rose round Rustum Samian wine seem'd sing Sir Lancelot sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spake spirit star stept stood stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thro trew unto voice wave weene wild wind wings words wyde youth Zuleika
Популарни одломци
Страница 118 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Страница 333 - 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.
Страница 580 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, — While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue ; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies ; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing ; and now with treble soft The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft; And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Страница 567 - O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Страница 534 - It struggles and howls at fits; Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, This pilot is guiding me, Lured by the love of the genii that move In the depths of the purple sea; Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, Over the lakes and the plains, Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream...
Страница 306 - My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch The language of my former heart, and read My former pleasures in the shooting lights Of thy wild eyes.
Страница 774 - The dropping of the daylight in the West, The bough of cherries some officious fool Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule She rode with round the terrace, — all and each Would draw from her alike the approving speech.
Страница 118 - When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights, Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have express'd Even such a beauty as you master now.
Страница 745 - And in the moon athwart the place of tombs, Where lay the mighty bones of ancient men, Old knights, and over them the sea-wind sang Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He, stepping down By zigzag paths, and juts of pointed rock, Came on the shining levels of the lake. There drew he forth the brand Excalibur...
Страница 134 - Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise. 70 (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights and live laborious days ; But, the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, And slits the thin-spun life.