In MemoriamTicknor and Fields, 1861 - Всего страниц: 343 |
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Alfred Tennyson ambrosial Arthur Arthur Hallam beat Behold bells bliss blood bloom break breast breath bring brows calm cloud crown'd Danube dark darken'd dawn dead dear Death deep dipt doubt dream dust earth Eton ev'n evermore eyes fades fair faith fall'n fancy father fear flower gloom grave grief half Hallam hand happy happy days harp hath hear heart heaven HENRY HALLAM Hesper hills hope Hope and Fear hour human Laburnums larch leave light lips lives look look'd love thee marge mind move Muse never night o'er peace regret rills Ring rise round seem'd shade Shadow shore silent sing Sleep song sorrow soul spirit Spring star summer sweet sycamore tears thine things thou art thought thro touch'd trust truth unto Vienna voice walk'd weep wert whisper wild wild bells winds wings wisdom words wrought yonder
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Стр. 1 - Thine are these orbs of light and shade; Thou madest Life in man and brute; Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot Is on the skull which thou hast made.
Стр. 121 - 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...
Стр. 7 - 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.
Стр. 21 - A hand that can be clasp'd no more, — Behold me, for I cannot sleep, And like a guilty thing I creep At earliest morning to the door. He is not here ; but far away The noise of life begins again, And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain On the bald street breaks the blank day.
Стр. 15 - I sometimes hold it half a sin To put in words the grief I feel; For words, like Nature, half reveal And half conceal the Soul within. But, for the unquiet heart and brain, A use in measured language lies; The sad mechanic exercise, Like dull narcotics, numbing pain.
Стр. 107 - 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; And we shall sit at endless feast, Enjoying each the other's good.
Стр. 103 - THE baby new to earth and sky, What time his tender palm is prest Against the circle of the breast, Has never thought that ' this is I : ' But as he grows he gathers much, And learns the use of ' I,' and 'me,' And finds ' I am not what I see, And other than the things I touch.
Стр. 66 - The time draws near the birth of Christ The moon is hid, the night is still ; A single church below the hill Is pealing, folded in the mist. A single peal of bells below, That wakens at this hour of rest A single murmur in the breast, That these are not the bells I know. Like strangers...
Стр. 162 - I curse not nature, no, nor death ; For nothing is that errs from law. We pass ; the path that each man trod Is dim, or will be dim, with weeds : What fame is left for human deeds In endless age ? It rests with God.
Стр. 73 - To hear her weeping by his grave ? " Where wert thou, brother, those four days ? " There lives no record of reply, Which telling what it is to die Had surely added praise to praise. From every house the neighbours met, The streets were fill'd with joyful sound, A solemn gladness even crown'd The purple brows of Olivet.