Prometheus Bound, and Other Poems: Including Sonnets from the Portuguese, Casa Guidi Windows, Etc

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C. S. Francis, 1851 - Всего страниц: 234
 

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Стр. 156 - My letters ! all dead paper, mute and white ! And yet they seem alive and quivering Against my tremulous hands which loose the string And let them drop down on my knee to-night, This said, — he wished to have me in his sight Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring To come and touch my hand ... a simple thing, Yet I wept for it ! — this, . . . the paper's light . . Said, Dear, I love thee; and I sank and quailed As if God's future thundered on my past. This said, I am thine — and so its...
Стр. 152 - No moment at thy voice, . . but link by link Went counting all my chains as if that so They never could fall off at any blow Struck by thy possible hand .... why, thus I drink Of life's great cup of wonder. Wonderful, Never to feel thee thrill the day or night With personal act or speech,—nor ever cull Some prescience of thee with the blossoms white Thou sawest growing!
Стр. 155 - Mr own Beloved, who hast lifted me From this drear flat of earth where I was thrown, And in betwixt the languid ringlets, blown A life-breath, till the forehead hopefully Shines out again, as all the angels see, Before thy saving kiss! My own, my own, Who earnest to me when the world was gone, And I who looked for only God, found thee!
Стр. 149 - That falls in well with mine, and certes brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day" 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, A creature might forget to weep, who bore Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby! But love me for love's sake, that evermore Thou may'st love on, through love's eternity.
Стр. 13 - Woe, woe ! to-day's woe and the coming morrow's I cover with one groan. And where is found me A limit to these sorrows? And yet what word do I say ? I have foreknown Clearly all things that should be ; nothing done Comes sudden to my soul ; and I must bear What is ordained with patience, being aware Necessity doth front the universe With an invincible gesture.
Стр. 27 - With wicketed sides, nor any woodcraft knew, But lived, like silly ants, beneath the ground In hollow caves unsunned. There, came to them No steadfast sign of winter, nor of spring Flower-perfumed, nor of summer full of fruit, But blindly and lawlessly they did all things, Until I taught them how the stars do rise And set in mystery, and devised for them Number, the inducer of philosophies, The synthesis of Letters, and, beside, The artificer of all things, Memory, That sweet Muse-mother.
Стр. 167 - Neath Casa Guidi windows, by the church, O bella liberta, O bella ! stringing The same words still on notes he went in search So high for, you concluded the upspringing Of such a nimble bird to sky from perch Must leave the whole bush in a tremble green, And that the heart of Italy must beat, While such a voice had leave to rise serene 'Twixt...
Стр. 123 - The sun that used to smite thee, And mix his glory in thy gorgeous urn, Till beam appeared to bloom, and flower to burn, If shining now, with not a hue would • light thee.
Стр. 155 - I lived with visions for my company Instead of men and women, years ago, And found them gentle mates, nor thought to know A sweeter music than they played to me. But soon their trailing purple was not free Of this world's dust, their lutes did silent grow, And I myself grew faint and blind below Their vanishing eyes. Then THOU didst come — to be, Beloved, what they seemed. Their shining fronts, Their songs, their...
Стр. 147 - And love is fire. And when I say at need / love thee . . . mark! . . . / love thee — in thy sight I stand transfigured, glorified aright, With conscience of the new rays that proceed Out of my face toward thine. There's nothing low In love, when love the lowest: meanest creatures Who love God, God accepts while loving so. And what...

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