A Selection from the Poetry of Elizabeth Barrett BrowningSmith, Elder, 1884 |
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Página 11
... earth the blessed sunshine from the sky where it was shrined . Tall the linden - tree , and near it An old hawthorn also grew ; And wood - ivy like a spirit Hovered dimly round the two , Shaping thence that bower of beauty which I sing ...
... earth the blessed sunshine from the sky where it was shrined . Tall the linden - tree , and near it An old hawthorn also grew ; And wood - ivy like a spirit Hovered dimly round the two , Shaping thence that bower of beauty which I sing ...
Página 29
... Casque , sword , to earth , as the boy down - sprung And stood - alone , alone . He clenched his hands as if to hold His soul's great agony- " Have I renounced my womanhood For wifehood unto thee THE ROMAUNT OF THE PAGE . 29.
... Casque , sword , to earth , as the boy down - sprung And stood - alone , alone . He clenched his hands as if to hold His soul's great agony- " Have I renounced my womanhood For wifehood unto thee THE ROMAUNT OF THE PAGE . 29.
Página 30
... earth's despair , The hopeful heavens to seek ; That little cloud still floateth there , Whereof her loved did speak : How bright the little cloud appears ! Her eyelids fall upon the tears , And the tears down either cheek . The tramp ...
... earth's despair , The hopeful heavens to seek ; That little cloud still floateth there , Whereof her loved did speak : How bright the little cloud appears ! Her eyelids fall upon the tears , And the tears down either cheek . The tramp ...
Página 53
... cannot speak , I sob in it , and grow weak . Ghostly mother , keep aloof One hour longer from my soul , For I still am thinking of Earth's warm - beating joy and dole ! On my finger is a ring Which I still see BERTHA IN THE LANE . 53.
... cannot speak , I sob in it , and grow weak . Ghostly mother , keep aloof One hour longer from my soul , For I still am thinking of Earth's warm - beating joy and dole ! On my finger is a ring Which I still see BERTHA IN THE LANE . 53.
Página 62
... earth unclean , Sweetest eyes , were ever seen ? " When beneath the palace - lattice You ride slow as you have done , And you see a face there , that is Not the old familiar one , - Will you oftly Murmur softly , " Here ye watched 62 ...
... earth unclean , Sweetest eyes , were ever seen ? " When beneath the palace - lattice You ride slow as you have done , And you see a face there , that is Not the old familiar one , - Will you oftly Murmur softly , " Here ye watched 62 ...
Términos y frases comunes
angels answer art thou beloved beside blessed blush bower breath bride brown rosary calm cheek child cold crown Cyclops dark Dear death deep dream dreamlight drop earth Emperor Evermore face fair Faunus flowers Gaeta gazing GEORGE SAND God's grave hair hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Italy kiss knee lady laughed light lips little birds sang look love thee love's mother mouth Naiads Napoleon Neath never night nightingales noble o'er Onora pale Pan is dead poet praise pray purple ride river Romagnole rose Rose-trees round scorn sigh silence sing sleep smile song soul spake speak spirit stand steed stood strong sweet Sweetest eyes tears Theocritus thine thing thou art thou hast thought thrushes Toll slowly tree tremble truth Tuscan Twixt voice ween weep wilt thou wind word young
Pasajes populares
Página 202 - 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 144 - we are weary, And we cannot run or leap; If we cared for any meadows, it were merely To drop down in them and sleep. Our knees tremble sorely in the stooping, We fall upon our faces, trying to go; And, underneath our heavy eyelids drooping, The reddest flower would look as pale as snow. For, all day, we drag our burden tiring, Through the coal-dark, underground; Or, all day, we drive the wheels of iron 10 In the factories, round and round.
Página 145 - Who is God that He should hear us, While the rushing of the iron wheels is stirred? When we sob aloud, the human creatures near us Pass by, hearing not, or answer not a word. And we hear not (for the wheels in their resounding) Strangers speaking at the door: Is it likely God, with angels singing round Him, Hears our weeping any more? "Two words, indeed, of praying we remember, And at midnight's hour of harm, 'Our Father', looking upward in the chamber, We say softly for a charm.
Página 146 - Let them weep ! let them weep ! They look up with their pale and sunken faces, And their look is dread to see, For they mind you of their angels in high places, With eyes turned on Deity.
Página 187 - 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 175 - WITH stammering lips and insufficient sound, I strive and struggle to deliver right That music of my nature, day and night With dream and thought and feeling, interwound : And inly answering all the senses round With octaves of a mystic depth and height, Which step out grandly to the infinite From the dark edges of the sensual ground...
Página 145 - Is it likely God, with angels singing round him, Hears our weeping any more ? "Two words, indeed, of praying we remember. And at midnight's hour of harm, 'Our Father,' looking upward in the chamber, We say softly for a charm. We know no other words except 'Our Father...
Página 264 - He tore out a reed, the great god Pan, From the deep cool bed of the river : The limpid water turbidly ran, And the broken lilies a-dying lay, And the dragon-fly had fled away, Ere he brought it out of the river. III. High on the shore sat the great god Pan...
Página 143 - We looked into the pit prepared to take her : Was no room for any work in the close clay ! From the sleep wherein she lieth none will wake her, Crying, " Get up, little Alice ! it is day.
Página 142 - 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...