The works of Alfred Tennyson, Том 3Strahan & Company, 1872 |
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Стр. 53
... come to thee soon ; Father will come to his babe in the nest , Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon : Sleep , my little one , sleep , my pretty one , sleep . III . ORN in the white wake of the morning.
... come to thee soon ; Father will come to his babe in the nest , Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon : Sleep , my little one , sleep , my pretty one , sleep . III . ORN in the white wake of the morning.
Стр. 78
... be beat , nor petty babes To be dandled , no , but living wills , and sphered Whole in ourselves and owed to none . Enough ! But now to leaven play with profit , you , Know you no song , the true growth of your 78 THE PRINCESS ;
... be beat , nor petty babes To be dandled , no , but living wills , and sphered Whole in ourselves and owed to none . Enough ! But now to leaven play with profit , you , Know you no song , the true growth of your 78 THE PRINCESS ;
Стр. 107
... babe , my blossom , ah my child , My one sweet child , whom I shall see no more ! For now will cruel Ida keep her back ; And either she will die from want of care , Or sicken with ill - usage , when they say The child is hers — for ...
... babe , my blossom , ah my child , My one sweet child , whom I shall see no more ! For now will cruel Ida keep her back ; And either she will die from want of care , Or sicken with ill - usage , when they say The child is hers — for ...
Стр. 108
... babe , my sweet Aglaïa , my one child : And I will take her up and go my way , And satisfy my soul with kissing her : Ah ! what might that man not deserve of me , Who gave me back my child ? " " Be comforted " Said Cyril " you shall ...
... babe , my sweet Aglaïa , my one child : And I will take her up and go my way , And satisfy my soul with kissing her : Ah ! what might that man not deserve of me , Who gave me back my child ? " " Be comforted " Said Cyril " you shall ...
Стр. 128
... babe , was Ida watching us , A single band of gold about her hair , Like a Saint's glory up in heaven : but she No saint - inexorable - no tenderness- Too hard , too cruel : yet she sees me fight , Yea , let her see me fall ! with that ...
... babe , was Ida watching us , A single band of gold about her hair , Like a Saint's glory up in heaven : but she No saint - inexorable - no tenderness- Too hard , too cruel : yet she sees me fight , Yea , let her see me fall ! with that ...
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The Works of Alfred Tennyson: Idylls of the King Baron Alfred Tennyson Tennyson Недоступно для просмотра - 2015 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Annie answer'd Arac arms babe beän betwixt blow break brows call'd cataract Catullus Celt child cried Cyril dark dash'd dead dear dearest death dream dropt DUKE OF WELLINGTON eerd eyes face fair fall'n father fear fell fight fire flash'd Florian flower flying follow'd girl glory golden golden hour half hall hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven Hexameters honour ILIAD king knaws knew Lady Psyche land light Lilia live look'd lords ally maiden maids Melissa mixt morning mother moved munny night noble o'er Odin ourself palace peace Prince Princess Princess Ida proputty rode roll'd rolling rose round sang seem'd shadow shame silent song spake speak spoke star stept stood sweet talk'd tears thee thine things thou thought thro trumpet turn'd vext voice wild Willy Winter's tale woman
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Стр. 196 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. ' Forward the Light Brigade ! Charge for the guns !
Стр. 197 - Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd ; Storm'd at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred. Flash'd all their sabres bare, Flash'd as they turn'd in air Sabring the gunners there, Charging an army, while All the world wonder'd ; Plunged in the battery-smoke Right thro' the line they broke; Cossack and Russian Reel'd from the sabre-stroke Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Стр. 270 - FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.
Стр. 160 - Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white; Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font: The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me. Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost. And like a ghost she glimmers on to me. Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars, And all thy heart lies open untD me.
Стр. 285 - O YOU chorus of indolent reviewers, Irresponsible, indolent reviewers, Look, I come to the test, a tiny poem All composed in a metre of Catullus, All in quantity, careful of my motion, Like the skater on ice that hardly bears him, Lest I fall unawares before the people, Waking laughter in indolent reviewers. Should I flounder awhile without a tumble Thro...
Стр. 179 - BURY the Great Duke With an empire's lamentation, Let us bury the Great Duke To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation, Mourning when their leaders fall, Warriors carry the warrior's pall, And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall.
Стр. 71 - 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, dyin£, 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. 33 - O lift your natures up: Embrace our aims : work out your freedom. Girls, Knowledge is now no more a fountain seal'd : Drink deep, until the habits of the slave. The sins of emptiness, gossip and spite And slander, die. Better not be at all Than not be noble.
Стр. 225 - ear my 'erse's legs, as they canters awaay? Proputty, proputty, proputty — that's what I 'ears 'em saay. Proputty, proputty, proputty — Sam, thou's an ass for thy paai'ns : Theer's moor sense i' one o' 'is legs nor in all thy braai'ns.
Стр. 265 - Glory of Virtue, to fight, to struggle, to right the wrong — Nay, but she aim'd not at glory, no lover of glory she : Give her the glory of going on, and still to be.