Poetical Works, Volumen3Smith, Elder & Company, 1872 |
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Página 5
... pure with solitude . XV . And if Chaucer had not travelled Through a forest by a well , He had never dreamt nor marvelled At those ladies fair and fell Who lived smiling without loving in their island - citadel . XVI . Thus I thought of ...
... pure with solitude . XV . And if Chaucer had not travelled Through a forest by a well , He had never dreamt nor marvelled At those ladies fair and fell Who lived smiling without loving in their island - citadel . XVI . Thus I thought of ...
Página 14
... pure grace ! ) The next morning , all had vanished , or my wandering missed the place . LI . Bring an oath most sylvan - holy , And upon it swear me true- By the wind - bells swinging slowly Their mute curfews in the dew , By the advent ...
... pure grace ! ) The next morning , all had vanished , or my wandering missed the place . LI . Bring an oath most sylvan - holy , And upon it swear me true- By the wind - bells swinging slowly Their mute curfews in the dew , By the advent ...
Página 28
... the height of speakers old : And we both praised Heliodorus For his secret of pure lies , - Who forged first his linkëd stories In the heat of lady's eyes . XV . And we both praised your Synesius For the 888 28 WINE OF CYPRUS .
... the height of speakers old : And we both praised Heliodorus For his secret of pure lies , - Who forged first his linkëd stories In the heat of lady's eyes . XV . And we both praised your Synesius For the 888 28 WINE OF CYPRUS .
Página 32
... A small volume , by an American poet - as remarkable in thought and manner for a vital sinewy vigour , as the right arm of Pathfinder . 1844 . 11 . Then all things look strange in the pure A RHAPSODY OF LIFE'S PROGRESS.
... A small volume , by an American poet - as remarkable in thought and manner for a vital sinewy vigour , as the right arm of Pathfinder . 1844 . 11 . Then all things look strange in the pure A RHAPSODY OF LIFE'S PROGRESS.
Página 33
Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 11 . Then all things look strange in the pure golden æther ; We walk through the gardens with hands linked together , And the lilies look large as the trees ; And as loud as the birds , sing the bloom - loving ...
Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 11 . Then all things look strange in the pure golden æther ; We walk through the gardens with hands linked together , And the lilies look large as the trees ; And as loud as the birds , sing the bloom - loving ...
Términos y frases comunes
angels Austria beatific beauty behold beneath bird bless blind bower breath brow calm Casa Guidi windows cheek chrism Cimabue cloud crown curse Cyprus wine Dante dark dear death divine doth dream drop earth evermore face fair feet Florence flowers gaze Giotto giveth His beloved glory God's golden gorses grave grow hand hast hear heart heaven holy hope insphere Italy kiss knee laugh leave life's light lips live look love thee love's Malvern Hills mother Naiads Neath never o'er once pale Pan is dead Petrarch pitiful poet poet's praise purple rose round sate shine shout sigh sight silence sing sleep smile snow song soul stand stone sweet Sweetest eyes tears Theocritus thine things thou art thought touch tremble truth turned Tuscan twixt VIII voice ween weep wilt thou go wind word
Pasajes populares
Página 230 - Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
Página 113 - And, friends, dear friends, — when it shall be That this low breath is gone from me, And round my bier ye come to weep, Let One, most loving of you all, Say, 'Not a tear must o'er her fall,' He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Página 201 - IF thou must love me, let it be for nought Except for love's sake only. Do not say ' I love her for her smile — her look — her way Of speaking gently, — for a trick of thought That falls in well with mine, and certes brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day...
Página 112 - He giveth His beloved, sleep. 'Sleep soft, beloved!' we sometimes say, But have no tune to charm away Sad dreams that through the eye-lids creep. But never doleful dream again Shall break the happy slumber when He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Página 111 - What would we give to our beloved? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows? — He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Página 120 - Deserted ! who hath dreamt that when the cross in darkness rested Upon the victim's hidden face, no love was manifested ? What frantic hands outstretched have e'er the atoning drops averted ? What tears have washed them from the soul, that one should be deserted ? Deserted!
Página 150 - GODS of Hellas, gods of Hellas, Can ye listen in your silence ? Can your mystic voices tell us Where ye hide ? In floating islands, With a wind that evermore Keeps you out of sight of shore ? Pan, Pan is dead.
Página 28 - Oh, our Sophocles, the royal, Who was born to monarch's place, And who made the whole world loyal, Less by kingly power than grace ! Our Euripides, the human, With his droppings of warm tears, And his touches of things common Till they rose to touch the spheres...
Página 119 - Like a sick child that knoweth not his mother while she blesses And drops upon his burning brow the coolness of her kisses — That turns his fevered eyes around...
Página 51 - THERE is no God,' the foolish saith, But none, ' There is no sorrow,' And nature oft the cry of faith, In bitter need will borrow : Eyes, which the preacher could not school, By wayside graves are raised, And lips say, ' God be pitiful,' Who ne'er said,