The princess |
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Стр. 8
... women , ' said the book , " O noble heart who , being strait - besieged By this wild king to force her to his wish , Nor bent , nor broke , nor shunn'd a soldier's death , But now when all was lost or seem'd as lost- Her stature more ...
... women , ' said the book , " O noble heart who , being strait - besieged By this wild king to force her to his wish , Nor bent , nor broke , nor shunn'd a soldier's death , But now when all was lost or seem'd as lost- Her stature more ...
Стр. 8
... woman as she was , had wound A scarf of orange round the stony helm , And robed the shoulders in a rosy silk , That made the old warrior from his ivied nook Glow like a sunbeam : near his tomb a feast Shone , silver - set ; about it lay ...
... woman as she was , had wound A scarf of orange round the stony helm , And robed the shoulders in a rosy silk , That made the old warrior from his ivied nook Glow like a sunbeam : near his tomb a feast Shone , silver - set ; about it lay ...
Стр. 8
... from her walls , And much I praised her nobleness , and ' Where , ' Ask'd Walter , patting Lilia's head ( she lay Beside him ) ' lives there such a woman now ? ' Quick answer'd Lilia ' There are thousands now Such women PROLOGUE . 7.
... from her walls , And much I praised her nobleness , and ' Where , ' Ask'd Walter , patting Lilia's head ( she lay Beside him ) ' lives there such a woman now ? ' Quick answer'd Lilia ' There are thousands now Such women PROLOGUE . 7.
Стр. 8
... women , but convention beats them down : It is but bringing up ; no more than that : You men have done it : how I hate you all ! Ah , were I something great ! I wish I were Some mighty poetess , I would shame you then , That love to ...
... women , but convention beats them down : It is but bringing up ; no more than that : You men have done it : how I hate you all ! Ah , were I something great ! I wish I were Some mighty poetess , I would shame you then , That love to ...
Стр. 14
... ) So I began , And the rest follow'd : and the women sang Between the rougher voices of the men , Like linnets in the pauses of the wind : And here I give the story and the songs . I. A PRINCE I was , blue - eyed , 14 PROLOGUE .
... ) So I began , And the rest follow'd : and the women sang Between the rougher voices of the men , Like linnets in the pauses of the wind : And here I give the story and the songs . I. A PRINCE I was , blue - eyed , 14 PROLOGUE .
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answer answer'd arms began Blow boys break broken brows cause child close cloth comes cried Cyril dark dead dear death doubt dream dying EDITION eyes face fair fall father fear fell fight Florian flying follow foolscap 8vo gave girl give half hall hand head hear heard heart Heaven hour keep king knew Lady Lady Psyche land laws less letter light lips lives look lost maiden maids Melissa mind morning mother moved night noble once past peace POEMS Prince Princess Princess Ida Psyche rest rose round seem'd shadow shame side song speak spoke star stood strange sweet tell thee things thou thought thousand thro till told took true truth turn'd voice volume walls wild woman women wrong
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Стр. 136 - Took the face-cloth from the face; Yet she neither moved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child upon her knee — Like summer tempest came her tears — " Sweet my child, I live for thee.
Стр. 174 - Happy he With such a mother ! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him, and tho' he trip and fall He shall not blind his soul with clay.
Стр. 74 - 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. 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,...
Стр. 76 - 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. 79 - O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South, Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves, And tell her, tell her, what I tell to thee.
Стр. 74 - 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. 180 - Britain, whole within herself, A nation yet, the rulers and the ruled — Some sense of duty, something of a faith, Some reverence for the laws ourselves have made, Some patient force to change them when we will, Some civic manhood firm against the crowd...
Стр. 77 - 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. 77 - ... 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. 8 - Flowers of all heavens, and lovelier than their names, Grew side by side ; and on the pavement lay Carved stones of the Abbey-ruin in the park, Huge Ammonites, and the first bones of Time ; And on the tables every clime and age - Jumbled together ; celts and calumets, Claymore and snowshoe, toys in lava, fans Of sandal, amber, ancient rosaries, Laborious orient ivory sphere in sphere, The cursed Malayan crease, and battle-clubs From the isles of palm : and higher on the walls, Betwixt the monstrous...