The Princess: A MedleyEdward Moxon, Dover Street, 1851 - 182 pagini |
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Pagina 50
... Soul of mincing mimicry ! Make liquid treble of that bassoon , my throat ; Abase those eyes that ever loved to meet Star - sisters answering under crescent brows ; Abate the stride , which speaks of man , and loose A flying charm of ...
... Soul of mincing mimicry ! Make liquid treble of that bassoon , my throat ; Abase those eyes that ever loved to meet Star - sisters answering under crescent brows ; Abate the stride , which speaks of man , and loose A flying charm of ...
Pagina 73
... soul to soul , And grow for ever and for ever . Blow , bugle , blow , set the wild echoes flying , And answer , echoes , answer , dying , dying , dying . IV . ' THERE sinks the nebulous star we call A MEDLEY . 73.
... soul to soul , And grow for ever and for ever . Blow , bugle , blow , set the wild echoes flying , And answer , echoes , answer , dying , dying , dying . IV . ' THERE sinks the nebulous star we call A MEDLEY . 73.
Pagina 80
... soul ! I had a maid of honour once ; She wept her true eyes blind for such a one , A rogue of canzonets and serenades . I loved her . Peace be with her . She is dead . So they blaspheme the muse ! but great is song Used to great ends ...
... soul ! I had a maid of honour once ; She wept her true eyes blind for such a one , A rogue of canzonets and serenades . I loved her . Peace be with her . She is dead . So they blaspheme the muse ! but great is song Used to great ends ...
Pagina 87
... soul . At last I hook'd my ancle in a vine , That claspt the feet of a Mnemosyne , And falling on my face was caught and known . They haled us to the Princess where she sat High in the hall : above her droop'd a lamp , And made the ...
... soul . At last I hook'd my ancle in a vine , That claspt the feet of a Mnemosyne , And falling on my face was caught and known . They haled us to the Princess where she sat High in the hall : above her droop'd a lamp , And made the ...
Pagina 111
... soul with kissing her : Ah ! what might that man not deserve of me , Who gave me back my child ? ' ' Be comforted ' Said Cyril ' you shall have it : ' but again She veil'd her brows , and prone she sank , and so Like tender things that ...
... soul with kissing her : Ah ! what might that man not deserve of me , Who gave me back my child ? ' ' Be comforted ' Said Cyril ' you shall have it : ' but again She veil'd her brows , and prone she sank , and so Like tender things that ...
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Termeni și expresii frecvente
ALFRED TENNYSON answer'd Arac arms beat betwixt blood blow break breast breathe brows call'd cataract Celt child cried Cyril dark dash'd dead dear death deep dipt doubt DOVER STREET dream dropt dying earth EDWARD MOXON eyes face fair faith fall'n fancy father fear Florian flower flying grief half hall hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven hills hour king Lady Psyche land light Lilia lips lives look'd maiden maids Melissa mind moon morning mother move Muses night noble o'er once peace Prince Princess Princess Ida rapt Ring rose round sang seem'd shadow shame sleep song sorrow soul spake speak spirit spoke star stept stood strange sweet talk'd tears thee thine things thou thought thro touch'd trumpet truth turn'd unto vext voice wassail wild wild bells wind Winter's tale woman words
Pasaje populare
Pagina 1 - I held it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.
Pagina 78 - THE wish, that of the living whole No life may fail beyond the grave ; Derives it not from what we have The likest God within the soul ? Are God and Nature then at strife, That Nature lends such evil dreams ? So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single life...
Pagina 73 - THE splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying O hark, O hear!
Pagina 76 - Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete; That not a worm is cloven in vain; That not a moth with vain desire Is shrivelled in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another's gain.
Pagina 76 - ... Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Pagina 76 - Oh yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood ; That nothing walks with aimless feet ; That not one life shall be destroyed, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...
Pagina 186 - I trust I have not wasted breath: I think we are not wholly brain, Magnetic mockeries; not in vain, Like Paul with beasts, I fought with Death; Not only cunning casts in clay: Let Science prove we are, and then What matters Science unto men, At least to me? I would not stay.
Pagina 76 - On lips that are for others; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; O Death in Life, the days that are no more.
Pagina 69 - That each, who seems a separate whole, Should move his rounds, and fusing all The skirts of self again, should fall Remerging in the general Soul, Is faith as vague as all unsweet: Eternal form shall still divide The eternal soul from all beside; And I shall know him when we meet...