Poems, by E.B. Barrett, Том 3 |
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Стр. 5
... laughed out pure with solitude . XV . And if Chaucer had not travelled Through a forest by a well , He had never dreamt nor marvelled At those ladies fair and fell Who lived smiling without loving in their island - citadel . XVI . Thus ...
... laughed out pure with solitude . XV . And if Chaucer had not travelled Through a forest by a well , He had never dreamt nor marvelled At those ladies fair and fell Who lived smiling without loving in their island - citadel . XVI . Thus ...
Стр. 13
... laughing joyfully for both . XLVIII . And I said within me , laughing , I have found a bower to - day , A green lusus , fashioned half in Chance and half in Nature's play , And a little bird sings nigh it , I will nevermore missay ...
... laughing joyfully for both . XLVIII . And I said within me , laughing , I have found a bower to - day , A green lusus , fashioned half in Chance and half in Nature's play , And a little bird sings nigh it , I will nevermore missay ...
Стр. 18
... Laugh you ? If that loss of mine be Of no heavy - seeming weight- When the cone falls from the pine - tree , The young children laugh thereat ; Yet the wind that struck it , riseth , and the tempest shall be great . LXVIII . One who ...
... Laugh you ? If that loss of mine be Of no heavy - seeming weight- When the cone falls from the pine - tree , The young children laugh thereat ; Yet the wind that struck it , riseth , and the tempest shall be great . LXVIII . One who ...
Стр. 25
... laughter of my pastime Has learnt silence at the tombs . Ah , my V. friend ! the antique drinkers Crowned the cup and crowned the brow . Can I answer the old thinkers In the forms they thought of , now ? Who will fetch from garden ...
... laughter of my pastime Has learnt silence at the tombs . Ah , my V. friend ! the antique drinkers Crowned the cup and crowned the brow . Can I answer the old thinkers In the forms they thought of , now ? Who will fetch from garden ...
Стр. 106
... for a guest ! Ho , the rose , having curled its sweet leaves for the world , Takes delight in the motion its petals keep up , As they laugh to the wind as it laughs from the west ! A DEAD ROSE . I. O ROSE , who dares SONG OF THE ROSE.
... for a guest ! Ho , the rose , having curled its sweet leaves for the world , Takes delight in the motion its petals keep up , As they laugh to the wind as it laughs from the west ! A DEAD ROSE . I. O ROSE , who dares SONG OF THE ROSE.
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
angels Austria beatific beauty behold beneath bird bless blind bower breath brow calm Casa Guidi windows cheek chrism Cimabue cloud crown curse Cyprus wine Dante dark dear death divine dost doth dream drop earth evermore face fair feet Florence flowers gaze Giotto giveth His beloved glory God's golden gorses grave grow hand hast hear heart heaven holy hope insphere Italy kiss knee laugh leave life's light lips live look love thee love's moonstruck mother Naiads Neath never o'er once pale Pan is dead Petrarch pitiful poet poet's praise purple rose round sate shine shout sigh sight silence sing sleep smile snow song soul stand stone sweet Sweetest eyes tears Theocritus thine things thou art thought touch tremble truth turned Tuscan twixt VIII voice ween weep wilt thou go wind word
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Стр. 201 - For these things in themselves, Beloved, may Be changed, or change for thee, — and love, so wrought, May be unwrought so. Neither love me for Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry...
Стр. 112 - He giveth His beloved, sleep. 'Sleep soft, beloved!' we sometimes say, But have no tune to charm away Sad dreams that through the eye-lids creep. But never doleful dream again Shall break the happy slumber when He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Стр. 194 - THE face of all the world is changed, I think, Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink, Was caught up into love, and taught the whole Of life in a new rhythm.
Стр. 51 - THERE is no God," the foolish saith, — But none, "There is no sorrow;" And nature oft, the cry of faith, In bitter need will borrow : Eyes, which the preacher could not school, By wayside graves are raised ; And lips say, " God be pitiful," Who ne'er said,
Стр. 120 - It went up from the Holy's lips amid his lost creation, That, of the lost, no son should use those words of desolation...
Стр. 111 - OF all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this — 'He giveth His beloved, sleep !
Стр. 112 - His dews drop mutely on the hill, His cloud above it saileth still, Though on its slope men sow and reap : More softly than the dew is shed, Or cloud is floated overhead, He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Стр. 231 - BELOVED, thou hast brought me many flowers Plucked in the garden, all the summer through And winter, and it seemed as if they grew In this close room, nor missed the sun and showers. So, in the like name of that love of ours, Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too, And which on warm and cold days I withdrew From my heart's ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue, And wait thy weeding ; yet here's eglantine, Here's ivy ! — take them, as I used to do...
Стр. 119 - Like a sick child that knoweth not his mother while she blesses, And drops upon his burning brow the coolness of her kisses ; That turns his fevered eyes around — " My mother ! where's my mother...
Стр. 230 - 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.