A Household Book of English Poetry, Выпуск 160Macmillan, 1870 - Всего страниц: 438 |
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Стр. 7
... Tell Potentates they live Acting but others ' actions ; Not loved unless they give , 15 Not strong but by their factions . If Potentates reply , Give Potentates the lie . Tell men of high condition , That manage the Estate , Their ...
... Tell Potentates they live Acting but others ' actions ; Not loved unless they give , 15 Not strong but by their factions . If Potentates reply , Give Potentates the lie . Tell men of high condition , That manage the Estate , Their ...
Стр. 8
... tell them all they lie . Tell Zeal it wants devotion ; Tell Love it is but lust ; Tell Time it is but motion ; Tell Flesh it is but dust . And wish them not reply , For thou must give the lie . Tell Age it daily wasteth ; Tell Honour ...
... tell them all they lie . Tell Zeal it wants devotion ; Tell Love it is but lust ; Tell Time it is but motion ; Tell Flesh it is but dust . And wish them not reply , For thou must give the lie . Tell Age it daily wasteth ; Tell Honour ...
Стр. 9
... Tell Schools they want profoundness , And stand too much on seeming . If Arts and Schools reply , 65 Give Arts and Schools the lie . Tell Faith it's fled the city ; Tell how the country erreth ; Tell Manhood shakes off pity ; Tell ...
... Tell Schools they want profoundness , And stand too much on seeming . If Arts and Schools reply , 65 Give Arts and Schools the lie . Tell Faith it's fled the city ; Tell how the country erreth ; Tell Manhood shakes off pity ; Tell ...
Стр. 16
... tell can ; Forget not yet ! Forget not yet the great assays , The cruel wrong , the scornful ways ; The painful patience in delays , Forget not yet ! Forget not ! oh ! forget not this , How long ago hath been , and is The mind that ...
... tell can ; Forget not yet ! Forget not yet the great assays , The cruel wrong , the scornful ways ; The painful patience in delays , Forget not yet ! Forget not ! oh ! forget not this , How long ago hath been , and is The mind that ...
Стр. 30
... tell o'er The sad account of fore - bemoanèd moan , Which I new pay as if not paid before : - But if the while I think on thee , dear friend , All losses are restored , and sorrows end . 5 10 William Shakespeare . XXX SONNET . From you ...
... tell o'er The sad account of fore - bemoanèd moan , Which I new pay as if not paid before : - But if the while I think on thee , dear friend , All losses are restored , and sorrows end . 5 10 William Shakespeare . XXX SONNET . From you ...
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Стр. 248 - The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Стр. 282 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Стр. 85 - Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild. And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out 140 With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony ; That Orpheus...
Стр. 257 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Стр. 285 - What thou art we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody. Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...
Стр. 215 - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn...
Стр. 339 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Стр. 26 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Стр. 51 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate; Death lays his icy hand on kings. Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Стр. 293 - O Attic shape ! Fair attitude ! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed ; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity : Cold Pastoral ! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shall remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, ! " Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.