Poems, Volumen2Chapman & Hall, 1853 |
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Página vii
... THOUGHT OF GOD THE CLAIM 335 338 343 • 347 350 353 355 LIFE AND LOVE 357 INCLUSIONS 358 INSUFFICIENCY 359 SONG OF THE ROSE . FROM THE GREEK 360 A DEAD ROSE . 361 THE EXILE'S RETURN . 363 THE SLEEP 365 . THE MEASURE 368 YY COWPER'S GRAVE ...
... THOUGHT OF GOD THE CLAIM 335 338 343 • 347 350 353 355 LIFE AND LOVE 357 INCLUSIONS 358 INSUFFICIENCY 359 SONG OF THE ROSE . FROM THE GREEK 360 A DEAD ROSE . 361 THE EXILE'S RETURN . 363 THE SLEEP 365 . THE MEASURE 368 YY COWPER'S GRAVE ...
Página 2
... thought , from these , o ' the beechen - trees Which in our England wave , And of the little finches fine Which sang there while in Palestine The warrior - hilt we drave . VI . · Methinks , a moment gone , I heard my mother pray ! I ...
... thought , from these , o ' the beechen - trees Which in our England wave , And of the little finches fine Which sang there while in Palestine The warrior - hilt we drave . VI . · Methinks , a moment gone , I heard my mother pray ! I ...
Página 17
... thought or other may keep where it found her , While forgot or unseen in the dreamlight around her Night cometh - Onora ! ' She looks up the forest whose alleys shoot on Like the mute minster - aisles when the anthem is done And the ...
... thought or other may keep where it found her , While forgot or unseen in the dreamlight around her Night cometh - Onora ! ' She looks up the forest whose alleys shoot on Like the mute minster - aisles when the anthem is done And the ...
Página 19
... thought the same with his fangs at her throat In the pass of the Brocken . ' At dawn and at eve , mother , who sitteth there , With the brown rosary never used for a prayer ? Stoop low , mother , low ! If we went there to see , What an ...
... thought the same with his fangs at her throat In the pass of the Brocken . ' At dawn and at eve , mother , who sitteth there , With the brown rosary never used for a prayer ? Stoop low , mother , low ! If we went there to see , What an ...
Página 23
... thought . Onora in sleep . A sleeping thought - most innocent of good- It doth the Devil no harm , sweet fiend ! it cannot , if it would . I say in it no holy hymn , I do no holy work , I scarcely hear the sabbath - bell that chimeth ...
... thought . Onora in sleep . A sleeping thought - most innocent of good- It doth the Devil no harm , sweet fiend ! it cannot , if it would . I say in it no holy hymn , I do no holy work , I scarcely hear the sabbath - bell that chimeth ...
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Términos y frases comunes
adown angel-wings angels Art thou Ask the aged beloved beneath beside birds sang west blessed bower breath bride brow brown rosary calm cheek child cloud cold crown curse dark dear death deep doth dream dreamlight drop dropt earth evermore eyes face fair flowers gaze glory God's goeth grave hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hills holy kiss knee lady laugh light lips little birds sang look mother Naiads neath never night o'er Onora in sleep pale Pan is dead poet praise pray purple ride river floweth rose rose-tree round sate scorn second sight shadow shining sight silence sing smile song soul sound spake speak spirit stars steed stood sweet sweetest SYNESIUS tears tears are falling thine thou art thought thrushes Toll slowly trees tremble twixt unto VIII voice vow to thee weary ween weep wind word
Pasajes populares
Página 355 - OF all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this — ' He giveth His beloved, sleep...
Página 138 - Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years? They are leaning their young heads against their mothers, And that cannot stop their tears. The young lambs are bleating in the meadows, The young birds are chirping in the nest, The young fawns are playing with the shadows, The young flowers are blowing towards the west — But the young, young children, O my brothers, They are weeping bitterly! They are weeping in the playtime of the others, in the country of the free.
Página 469 - 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. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints.
Página 142 - how long, O cruel nation, Will you stand, to move the world on a child's heart, — Stifle down with a mailed heel its palpitation, And tread onward to your throne amid the mart ? Our blood splashes upward, O goldheaper, And your purple shows your path ! But the child's sob in the silence curses deeper Than the strong man in his wrath.
Página 441 - 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 141 - Let them touch each other's hands, in a fresh wreathing Of their tender human youth ! Let them feel that this cold metallic motion Is not all the life God fashions or reveals — Let them prove their...
Página 385 - Knelt beside you on the sod, For your beauty thanking God, — For your teaching, ye should see us Bowing in prostration new ! Whence arisen, — if one or two Drops be on our cheeks — O world, they are not tears but dew. THE LADY'S YES. " YES," I answered you last night; " No," this morning, sir, I say : Colors seen by candle-light Will not look the same by day.
Página 140 - Alas, alas, the children ! they are seeking Death in life, as best to have : They are binding up their hearts away from breaking, With a cerement from the grave. Go out, children, from the mine and from the city. Sing out, children, as the little thrushes do ; Pluck your handfuls of the meadow-cowslips pretty, Laugh aloud, to feel your fingers let them through ! But they answer, ' Are your cowslips of the meadows Like our weeds anear the mine ? Leave us quiet in the dark of the coal-shadows, From...
Página 357 - For me, my heart that erst did go Most like a tired child at a show, That sees through tears the mummers leap, Would now its wearied vision close, Would childlike on His love repose Who giveth His beloved, sleep. 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,
Página 465 - When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst I could not wear here plainer to my sight, Than that first kiss. The second passed in height The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed, Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed ! That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown, With sanctifying sweetness, did precede.