Sibylline Leaves: A Collection of Poems |
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Стр. 93
... an hour or two afterward , cordially shaking hands with the very man , the
fractional parts of whose body and soul he had been so charitably disposing of ;
or even perhaps risking his life for him . What language Shakespear considered ...
... an hour or two afterward , cordially shaking hands with the very man , the
fractional parts of whose body and soul he had been so charitably disposing of ;
or even perhaps risking his life for him . What language Shakespear considered ...
Стр. 116
They shall tear him limb from limb ! . FIRE . O thankless beldames and untrue !
And is this all that you can do For him , who did so much for you ? Ninety months
he , by my troth ! Hath richly cater ' d for you both ; And in an hour would you
repay ...
They shall tear him limb from limb ! . FIRE . O thankless beldames and untrue !
And is this all that you can do For him , who did so much for you ? Ninety months
he , by my troth ! Hath richly cater ' d for you both ; And in an hour would you
repay ...
Стр. 174
Weaving in moral strains , I ' ve stolen one hour From anxious SELF , Life ' s cruel
Task - Master ! And the warm wooings of this sunny day Tremble along my frame
and harmonize TH ' attemper ' d organ , that even saddest thoughts Mix with ...
Weaving in moral strains , I ' ve stolen one hour From anxious SELF , Life ' s cruel
Task - Master ! And the warm wooings of this sunny day Tremble along my frame
and harmonize TH ' attemper ' d organ , that even saddest thoughts Mix with ...
Стр. 180
Blest hour ! It was a Luxury , — to be ! Ah ! quiet dell ! dear cot ! and mount
sublime ! I was constrain ' d to quit you . Was it right , While my unnumber ' d
brethren toild and bled , That I should dream away th ' entrusted hours On rose -
leaf Beds ...
Blest hour ! It was a Luxury , — to be ! Ah ! quiet dell ! dear cot ! and mount
sublime ! I was constrain ' d to quit you . Was it right , While my unnumber ' d
brethren toild and bled , That I should dream away th ' entrusted hours On rose -
leaf Beds ...
Стр. 201
And ill Such Intertwine beseems triumphal wreaths Strew ' d before thy advancing
! om Nor do thou , Sage Bard ! impair the memory of that hour Of thy communion
with my nobler mind By Pity or Grief , already felt too long ! Nor let my words ...
And ill Such Intertwine beseems triumphal wreaths Strew ' d before thy advancing
! om Nor do thou , Sage Bard ! impair the memory of that hour Of thy communion
with my nobler mind By Pity or Grief , already felt too long ! Nor let my words ...
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Sibylline Leaves: A Collection of Poems (Classic Reprint) Samuel Taylor Coleridge Недоступно для просмотра - 2016 |
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ancient arms Author beautiful beneath bird blessed blue breath breeze bright calm child close cloud dark dead dear Death deep dream Earth face fair Father fear feelings Friend gazed gentle green groan half hand hath head hear heard heart Heaven hill hope hour leaves light limbs living look loud Maid Mariner Milton mind Moon morn Mother moved Nature never night o'er once pain Peace pleasure Poem poor present Price Rain rest rise rock rose round scarcely ship silent sing sleep soft song soon soul sound spirit stars stood strain strange stream sweet tale tears tell thee things thou thought truth twas voice wild wind wings wood youth
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Стр. 38 - I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach.
Стр. 37 - Laughed loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro. "Ha! ha!" quoth he, "full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row." And now, all in my own countree, I stood on the firm land! The Hermit stepped forth from the boat, And scarcely he could stand. "O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!" The Hermit crossed his brow. "Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say What manner of man art thou?
Стр. 27 - Is this the man? By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low The harmless Albatross. The spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow.
Стр. 10 - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.
Стр. 22 - My lips were wet, my throat was cold, My garments all were dank; Sure I had drunken in my dreams, And still my body drank. I moved, and could not feel my limbs : I was so light — almost I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed ghost.
Стр. 35 - Strange, by my faith!" the Hermit said — "And they answered not our cheer! The planks looked warped! and see those sails, How thin they are and sere! I never saw aught like to them. Unless perchance it were Brown skeletons of leaves that lag My forest-brook along; When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, And the owlet whoops to the wolf below, That eats the she-wolfs young." "Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look — (The Pilot made reply) I am a-feared
Стр. 23 - The Moon was at its edge. The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The Moon was at its side: Like waters shot" from some high crag, The lightning fell with never a jag, A river steep and wide.
Стр. 21 - Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole ! To Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, That slid into my soul.
Стр. 164 - Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet?— God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God!
Стр. 30 - Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, And turns no more his head ; Because he knows, a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread.