Voices of the NightJ. Owen, 1840 - Всего страниц: 144 |
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Стр. 119
... GERMAN . THERE sat one day in quiet , By an alehouse on the Rhine , Four hale and hearty fellows , And drank the precious wine . The landlord's daughter filled their cups , Around the rustic board ; Then sat they all so calm and still ...
... GERMAN . THERE sat one day in quiet , By an alehouse on the Rhine , Four hale and hearty fellows , And drank the precious wine . The landlord's daughter filled their cups , Around the rustic board ; Then sat they all so calm and still ...
Стр. 121
... gorge and bourn . * * And then the landlord's daughter Up to heaven raised her hand , And said , Ye may no more contend , - There lies the happiest land ! THE WAVE . FROM THE GERMAN OF TIEDGE . WHITHER THE HAPPIEST LAND . 121.
... gorge and bourn . * * And then the landlord's daughter Up to heaven raised her hand , And said , Ye may no more contend , - There lies the happiest land ! THE WAVE . FROM THE GERMAN OF TIEDGE . WHITHER THE HAPPIEST LAND . 121.
Стр. 122
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. THE WAVE . FROM THE GERMAN OF TIEDGE . WHITHER , thou turbid wave ? Whither , with so much haste , As if a thief wert thou ? I am the Wave of Life , Stained with my margin's dust ; From the struggle and the ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. THE WAVE . FROM THE GERMAN OF TIEDGE . WHITHER , thou turbid wave ? Whither , with so much haste , As if a thief wert thou ? I am the Wave of Life , Stained with my margin's dust ; From the struggle and the ...
Стр. 123
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. THE DEAD . FROM THE GERMAN OF KLOPSTOCK . How they so softly rest , All , all the holy dead , Unto whose dwelling - place Now doth my soul draw near ! How they so softly rest , All in their silent graves ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. THE DEAD . FROM THE GERMAN OF KLOPSTOCK . How they so softly rest , All , all the holy dead , Unto whose dwelling - place Now doth my soul draw near ! How they so softly rest , All in their silent graves ...
Стр. 124
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. And they no longer feel , Here , where all gladness flies ! And by the cypresses Softly o'ershadowed , Until the Angel Calls them , they slumber ! THE BIRD AND THE SHIP . FROM THE GERMAN OF 124 TRANSLATIONS .
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. And they no longer feel , Here , where all gladness flies ! And by the cypresses Softly o'ershadowed , Until the Angel Calls them , they slumber ! THE BIRD AND THE SHIP . FROM THE GERMAN OF 124 TRANSLATIONS .
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amid arms Awake battle bearded grain Behold Beware bird blue brave breast breath bright brooklet calm Castile castle cisterns clouds comes softly dark dark wave dead Death didst doth dreams dwell earth eternal fame fears fields of light flowerets flowers fooling thee forest gentle GERMAN glide glorious glory golden grave green hand hast heard heart heaven hoary holy holy Night JOHN OWEN Jorge Manrique King leave no trace leaves Life's lips LOPE DE VEGA Manrique mist mournful murmur Night nought numbers o'er onward Pentecost poem prayer PSALM PURGATORIO Reaper red planet Mars Saxon shadows sighs Silent Land silver slumbers smile soft solemn song sorrow soul sound SPANISH spirit star stern Swabian sweet Take thy banner tears thine Thither thou art thou dost thou soundest toil trees Uclés vale voice wave weary winds wings woodland woods youth
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Стр. 9 - Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main. A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
Стр. 8 - O holy Night ! from thee I learn to bear What man has borne before ! Thou layest thy finger on the lips of Care, And they complain no more.
Стр. 46 - Take thy banner ! — and if e'er Thou shouldst press the soldier's bier, And the muffled drum should beat To the tread of mournful feet, Then this crimson flag shall be Martial cloak and shroud for thee.
Стр. 7 - Stoop o er me from above ; The calm, majestic presence of the Night, As of the one I love. I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight, The manifold, soft chimes, That fill the haunted chambers of the Night, Like some old poet's rhymes.
Стр. 20 - Wondrous truths, and manifold as wondrous, God hath written in those stars above ; But not less in the bright flowerets under us Stands the revelation of his love. Bright and glorious is that revelation, Written all over this great world of ours ; Making evident our own creation, In these stars of earth,— these golden flowers.
Стр. 19 - SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
Стр. 15 - O fear not in a world like this, And thou shall know ere long, Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong.
Стр. 52 - The sylvan pomp of woods, the golden sun, The flowers, the leaves, the river on its way, Blue skies, and silver clouds, and gentle winds, — The swelling upland, where the sidelong sun Aslant the wooded slope, at evening, goes, — Groves, through whose broken roof the sky looks in, Mountain, and shattered cliff, and sunny vale, The distant lake, fountains, and mighty trees, In many a lazy syllable, repeating Their old poetic legends to the wind.
Стр. 9 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Стр. 18 - Lays her gentle hand in mine. And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies. Uttered not, yet comprehended, Is the spirit's voiceless prayer, Soft rebukes, in blessings ended, Breathing from her lips of air. O, though oft depressed and lonely, All my fears are laid aside, If I but remember only Such as these have lived and died ! FLOWERS.