The Magazine of Poetry, Volumul 2,Edițiile 1-4Charles Wells Moulton, 1890 |
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Pagina viii
... Breath of Love . " Parting . Repentance . Love's Phases . Sometime , I Fear . The Deep Tide . To M Charles Washington Henry . G. Mercer Adam . 463 A Birthday Wish . At 467 WETHERALD , AGNES ETHELWYN . COFFINBEBRY , SALATHIEL C. With ...
... Breath of Love . " Parting . Repentance . Love's Phases . Sometime , I Fear . The Deep Tide . To M Charles Washington Henry . G. Mercer Adam . 463 A Birthday Wish . At 467 WETHERALD , AGNES ETHELWYN . COFFINBEBRY , SALATHIEL C. With ...
Pagina 5
... breath Of the mid - ocean salt upon its lips , And a low , lulling , dreamy sound of waves , To breathe upon me , as I lie along On my white violets , marveling at the bees That toil but to be plundered , or the mart Of striving men ...
... breath Of the mid - ocean salt upon its lips , And a low , lulling , dreamy sound of waves , To breathe upon me , as I lie along On my white violets , marveling at the bees That toil but to be plundered , or the mart Of striving men ...
Pagina 9
... breath of May Was blown around me , and the lulling play Of dripping fountains . Yet the lights and shades , The waving scarfs , the battle's grand parades , Seemed but vague shadows of that wondrous lay . " HOW CANST THOU CALL ? " How ...
... breath of May Was blown around me , and the lulling play Of dripping fountains . Yet the lights and shades , The waving scarfs , the battle's grand parades , Seemed but vague shadows of that wondrous lay . " HOW CANST THOU CALL ? " How ...
Pagina 11
... breath . Am I a prisoner ? Difference between Chepstow and England is not much , I ween . " T is but a cell a few more paces wide . Year after year ; and under Chepstow's side The muddied Wye still flows . My hair is grey ; My old bones ...
... breath . Am I a prisoner ? Difference between Chepstow and England is not much , I ween . " T is but a cell a few more paces wide . Year after year ; and under Chepstow's side The muddied Wye still flows . My hair is grey ; My old bones ...
Pagina 18
... breath - can that be eglantine ? Those birds - can they be Morning's choristers ? Can this be Earth ? Can these be banks of furze ? Like burning bushes fired of God they shine ! I seem to know them , though this body of mine Pass'd into ...
... breath - can that be eglantine ? Those birds - can they be Morning's choristers ? Can this be Earth ? Can these be banks of furze ? Like burning bushes fired of God they shine ! I seem to know them , though this body of mine Pass'd into ...
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Termeni și expresii frecvente
ALFRED AUSTIN Barum beauty bird bloom born breast breath bright CHARLES MACKAY charm cheer cloud dark dead dear death deep divine doth dream earth eyes face fair flowers friends G. P. Putnam's Sons GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP gleam glory glow gold golden grace grave green hand hath hear heart heaven HENRY PETERSON hills hope IBID JOHN STUART BLACKIE kiss land life's light lips literary live look Love's MAGAZINE OF POETRY marshes of Glynn Menelaus MINOT JUDSON SAVAGE Miscellaneous poems morning mother neath never night o'er pain poet prize published rest Roden Noel rose ROSE HAWTHORNE LATHROP shadows shine sigh silent sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit spring stars strong summer sweet tears tender thee thine things thou thought to-day tree verse voice waves wild wind wings young
Pasaje populare
Pagina 108 - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water ; the poop was beaten gold, Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them, the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.
Pagina 205 - Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place; I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right, Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit, Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.
Pagina 53 - Say not the struggle nought availeth, The labour and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth. And as things have been they remain. If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars ; It may be, in yon smoke concealed, Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers, And, but for you, possess the field. For while the tired waves, vainly breaking. Seem here no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making, Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
Pagina 205 - Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky ; The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh ; 'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff, Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!
Pagina 208 - Then, welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go! Be our joys three-parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!
Pagina 205 - And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; And one eye's black intelligence, — ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance! And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on. By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris "Stay spur! Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her, We'll remember at Aix...
Pagina 206 - Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy : You hardly could suspect — (So tight he kept his lips compressed, Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two.
Pagina 108 - So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, And made their bends adornings ; at the helm A seeming mermaid steers ; the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast Her people out upon her, and Antony, Enthron'd i...
Pagina 464 - When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forget.
Pagina 464 - I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more, day by day, You tell me of our future that you planned: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.