SonnetsH. Milford, 1914 - 128 pagini |
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Rezultatele 1 - 5 din 26
Pagina 11
... hath slain , and you whose eyes Shall behold God , and never taste death's woe . But let them sleep , Lord , and me mourn a space , For , if above all these , my sins abound , " Tis late to ask abundance of thy grace , When we are there ...
... hath slain , and you whose eyes Shall behold God , and never taste death's woe . But let them sleep , Lord , and me mourn a space , For , if above all these , my sins abound , " Tis late to ask abundance of thy grace , When we are there ...
Pagina 18
... hath no questions , she hath no replies , Hushed in and curtained with a blessed dearth Of all that irked her from the hour of birth ; With stillness that is almost Paradise . Darkness more clear than noon - day holdeth her , Silence ...
... hath no questions , she hath no replies , Hushed in and curtained with a blessed dearth Of all that irked her from the hour of birth ; With stillness that is almost Paradise . Darkness more clear than noon - day holdeth her , Silence ...
Pagina 20
... hath Death freed you from his ancient pain ? Have ye no springtide , and no burst of May In flowers and leafy trees , when solemn night Pants with love - music , and the holy day Breaks on the ear with songs of heavenly light ? What ...
... hath Death freed you from his ancient pain ? Have ye no springtide , and no burst of May In flowers and leafy trees , when solemn night Pants with love - music , and the holy day Breaks on the ear with songs of heavenly light ? What ...
Pagina 26
... hath been ; And , when he ends his pilgrimage of days , Let him be buried where the grass is green ; Where daisies , blooming earliest , linger late To hear the bee his busy note prolong , — There let him slumber , and in peace await ...
... hath been ; And , when he ends his pilgrimage of days , Let him be buried where the grass is green ; Where daisies , blooming earliest , linger late To hear the bee his busy note prolong , — There let him slumber , and in peace await ...
Pagina 29
... self , with low last breath . ' I am thyself , -what hast thou done to me ? ' ' And I - and I - thyself , ' ( lo ! each one saith , ) And thou thyself to all eternity ! ' D. G. ROSSETTI . 30 MILTON How soon hath Time , the subtle thief.
... self , with low last breath . ' I am thyself , -what hast thou done to me ? ' ' And I - and I - thyself , ' ( lo ! each one saith , ) And thou thyself to all eternity ! ' D. G. ROSSETTI . 30 MILTON How soon hath Time , the subtle thief.
Termeni și expresii frecvente
beauty behold birds blind breath bright brow Chillon chronicle of wasted cloud COLERIDGE D. G. ROSSETTI dark dear death didst divine dost doth DRAYTON DRUMMOND E. B. BROWNING earth eternal eyes FAERY QUEENE fair FAUNUS glad glorious glory gold golden grave grief hand hath heart hearts of oak heaven heavenly honour hour immortal J. A. SYMONDS KEATS knew thee leaves LEE-HAMILTON Letty's Globe life's light live look Lord love thee love's MAGDALEN TOWER MEREDITH MILTON morn mused never night O.G.-SONNETS o'er OZYMANDIAS passions peace Petrarch pillow poor praise Queen repent scorn shadows SHAKESPEARE shalt SHELLEY shine SIDNEY sigh silent sing sleep song soul sound SPENSER spring stars summer's sweet tears TENNYSON TURNER Theocritus thine things thou art thought thyself Toussaint TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE Tristram of Lyonesse unto VERE voice W. S. BLUNT WATTS-DUNTON wind wings WORDSWORTH
Pasaje populare
Pagina 89 - IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration...
Pagina 51 - 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.
Pagina 76 - We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not. — Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Pagina 61 - 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...
Pagina 111 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
Pagina 55 - To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers' pride, Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd In process of the seasons have I seen, Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd, Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green. Ah ! yet...
Pagina 113 - And yet this time removed was summer's time; The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burden of the prime, Like widow'd wombs after their lords...
Pagina 75 - O FRIEND ! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show ; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom ! We must run glittering like a brook In the open sunshine, or we are unblest : The wealthiest man among us is the best : No grandeur now in nature or in book Delights us. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry ; and these we adore : Plain living and high thinking are no more : The homely beauty of the good old cause...
Pagina 15 - Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow, Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy...
Pagina 110 - Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding .pale streams with heavenly alchemy...