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English poetry: with introductions, notes and illustrations
Charles William Eliot
Полный просмотр - 1910
Artemidora beauty beneath birds bless bloom bonnie Bonny Dundee bosom breast breath bright Brignall brow busk Christabel cloud Cockpen cold County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream Dunblane earth eternal eyes fair fear flame transformed flowers frae gentle glory gone grave green grief hame hand happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven hills Kilmeny kiss lady land lassie light lips live Lochinvar look look'd loud maid mighty heart moon morning mountains mourns for Adonais ne'er never night nursling o'er pain pale Roland de Vaux rose round Samian wine seem'd shade sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stars stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought tree Twas voice waves weary weep wild wind wings Yarrow youth
Стр. 651 - To them I may have owed another gift, Of aspect more Sublime ; that blessed mood, In which the burthen of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world, Is lightened : — that serene and blessed mood, In which the affections gently lead us on. — Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul : While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and...
Стр. 718 - But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover ! A savage place ! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover ! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing...
Стр. 670 - Will no one tell me what she sings? — Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago: Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again?
Стр. 653 - Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is...
Стр. 652 - The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion : the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite ; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied; or any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Стр. 903 - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Стр. 853 - Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow The world should listen then, as I am listening now...
Стр. 967 - Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life ! — and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
Стр. 900 - 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; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow 198 And leaden-eyed despairs, Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
Стр. 685 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be ; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...