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American beautiful bird bless blue born breath bright brown called child clear clouds comes dark dead death deep delight dost doth dream earth eyes fair fall fear feel fields flow flowers give gone grass green half hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills Italy keep leaves light living look loud man's merry morning murmur nature never night o'er pass poems poet poetry poor rest rich river round seems seen shade shine silent silver sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit Spring stars stream strong summer sweet tell thee thine things Thomas thou thought tree true verse voice waves wild wind wings woods young youth
Стр. 169 - Slowly and sadly we laid him down From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory!
Стр. 81 - Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou For whose path the Atlantic's level powers Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear The sapless foliage of the ocean,...
Стр. 90 - We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Стр. 8 - Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen; Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown . For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed...
Стр. 116 - A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Slippers, lined choicely for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold. A belt of straw, and ivy buds, With coral clasps, and amber studs; And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my love.
Стр. 75 - QUEEN and Huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart And thy crystal-shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart Space, to breathe, how short soever: Thou that mak'st...
Стр. 12 - 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. 13 - We have not wings, we cannot soar ; But we have feet to scale and climb By slow degrees, by more and more, The cloudy summits of our time.
Стр. 90 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be: Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee: Thou lovest — but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.