The Princess: A MedleyEdward Moxon, 1850 - Всего страниц: 177 |
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Стр. 7
... Ask'd Walter , patting Lilia's head ( she lay 6 Beside him ) lives there such a woman now ? ' Quick answer'd Lilia There are thousands now Such women , but convention beats them down : It is but bringing up ; no more than that : You men ...
... Ask'd Walter , patting Lilia's head ( she lay 6 Beside him ) lives there such a woman now ? ' Quick answer'd Lilia There are thousands now Such women , but convention beats them down : It is but bringing up ; no more than that : You men ...
Стр. 24
... ask'd of that and this , And who were tutors . ' Lady Blanche ' she said , And Lady Psyche . ' " Which was prettiest , Best natured ? ' ' Lady Psyche . ' ' Hers are we , ' One voice , we cried ; and I sat down and wrote , In such a hand ...
... ask'd of that and this , And who were tutors . ' Lady Blanche ' she said , And Lady Psyche . ' " Which was prettiest , Best natured ? ' ' Lady Psyche . ' ' Hers are we , ' One voice , we cried ; and I sat down and wrote , In such a hand ...
Стр. 40
... ask'd to whom , In gentler days , your arrow - wounded fawn Came flying while you sat beside the well ? The creature laid his muzzle on your lap , And sobb'd , and you sobb'd with it , and the blood Was sprinkled on your kirtle , and ...
... ask'd to whom , In gentler days , your arrow - wounded fawn Came flying while you sat beside the well ? The creature laid his muzzle on your lap , And sobb'd , and you sobb'd with it , and the blood Was sprinkled on your kirtle , and ...
Стр. 52
... , while yet you may ! ' My mother knows : ' and when I ask'd her how ' 6 ' My fault ' she wept my fault ! and yet not mine ; Yet mine in part . O hear me , pardon me . My mother , ' tis her wont from night to 52 THE PRINCESS ; III. ...
... , while yet you may ! ' My mother knows : ' and when I ask'd her how ' 6 ' My fault ' she wept my fault ! and yet not mine ; Yet mine in part . O hear me , pardon me . My mother , ' tis her wont from night to 52 THE PRINCESS ; III. ...
Стр. 55
... ask'd , ' How grew this feud betwixt the right and left . ' ' O long ago , ' she said , ' betwixt these two Division smoulders hidden : ' tis my mother , Too jealous , often fretful as the wind Pent in a crevice : much I bear with her ...
... ask'd , ' How grew this feud betwixt the right and left . ' ' O long ago , ' she said , ' betwixt these two Division smoulders hidden : ' tis my mother , Too jealous , often fretful as the wind Pent in a crevice : much I bear with her ...
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
ALFRED TENNYSON answer'd Arac arms ask'd babe betwixt Blow bosom boys breast breathe broken brother brows call'd cataract cheek child cried Cyril dark dash'd daughter dead dear death dipt dream dropt dying enemies have fall'n enter'd eyes face fair father fear fell fixt Florian flying follow'd gain'd gazing girl glance glowworm half hall hand head hear heard heart Heaven king kiss'd knew Lady Blanche Lady Psyche land laugh'd light Lilia lips lives look'd maiden maids Melissa morning mother moved night noble o'er once ourselves palace peace Prince Princess Psyche's rapt rode roll'd rose sang seem'd shame shook smile song soul spake speak spoke star stept stood sweet Sweet and low Sweet dream talk'd tears tender thee thou thought thro touch'd troth True woman trumpet turn'd vext voice wild winter's tale woman women
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Стр. 70 - THE splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear ! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going ! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing ! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying : Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Стр. 70 - O, hark, O, hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O, sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O love, they die in yon rich sky. They faint on hill or field or river; Our echoes roll from soul to soul. And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.
Стр. 72 - Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.
Стр. 51 - SWEET and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Стр. 163 - And come, for Love is of the valley, come, For Love is of the valley, come thou down And find him; by the happy threshold, he, Or hand in hand with Plenty in the maize, Or red with spirted purple of the vats, Or foxlike in the vine ; nor cares to walk With Death and Morning on the silver horns, Nor wilt thou snare him in the white ravine, Nor find him dropt upon the firths of ice, That huddling slant in furrow-cloven falls To roll the torrent out of dusky doors : But follow; let the torrent dance...
Стр. 26 - As thro' the land at eve we went, And pluck'd the ripen'd ears, We fell out, my wife and I, O we fell out I know not why, And kiss'd again with tears. And blessings on the falling out That all the more endears, When we fall out with those we love And kiss again with tears! For when we came where lies the child We lost in other years, There above the little grave, O there above the little grave, We kiss'd again with tears.
Стр. 73 - Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Стр. 73 - Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering square; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more. Dear as remember'd kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; O Death in Life, the days that are no more!
Стр. 159 - Glowing all over noble shame ; and all Her falser self slipt from her like a robe, And left her woman, lovelier in her mood Than in her mould that other, when she came From barren deeps to conquer all with love...
Стр. 110 - Man is the hunter ; woman is his game : The sleek and shining creatures of the chase, We hunt them for the beauty of their skins ; They love us for it, and we ride them down.