The Poetical Works of Alfred Tennyson, Poet Laureate, Etc: Complete in One VolumeTicknor and Fields, 1857 - Всего страниц: 524 |
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Стр. 19
... murmurs harsh , Or even a lowly cottage whence we see Stretched wide and wild the waste enormous marsh , Where from the frequent bridge , Like emblems of infinity , The trenched waters run from sky to sky ; Or a garden bowered close ...
... murmurs harsh , Or even a lowly cottage whence we see Stretched wide and wild the waste enormous marsh , Where from the frequent bridge , Like emblems of infinity , The trenched waters run from sky to sky ; Or a garden bowered close ...
Стр. 77
... murmur of reply . What is it that will take away my sin , And save me lest I die ? " So when four years were wholly finished , She threw her royal robes away . " Make me a cottage in the vale , ” she said . " Where I may mourn and pray ...
... murmur of reply . What is it that will take away my sin , And save me lest I die ? " So when four years were wholly finished , She threw her royal robes away . " Make me a cottage in the vale , ” she said . " Where I may mourn and pray ...
Стр. 108
... murmur of the strife , But enter not the toil of life . Your spirit is the calmed sea , Laid by the tumult of the fight . You are the evening star , alway Remaining betwixt dark and bright : Lulled echoes of laborious day Come to you ...
... murmur of the strife , But enter not the toil of life . Your spirit is the calmed sea , Laid by the tumult of the fight . You are the evening star , alway Remaining betwixt dark and bright : Lulled echoes of laborious day Come to you ...
Стр. 136
... murmur broke the stillness of that air Which brooded round about her : “ Ah , one rose , One rose , but one , by those fair fingers culled , Were worth a hundred kisses pressed on lips Less exquisite than thine ! " She looked : but all ...
... murmur broke the stillness of that air Which brooded round about her : “ Ah , one rose , One rose , but one , by those fair fingers culled , Were worth a hundred kisses pressed on lips Less exquisite than thine ! " She looked : but all ...
Стр. 150
... take the meaning , Lord : I do not breathe , Not whisper , any murmur of complaint . Pain heaped ten - hundred - fold to this , were still Less burthen , by ten - hundred - fold , 150 ST . SIMEON STYLITES . St Simeon Stylites.
... take the meaning , Lord : I do not breathe , Not whisper , any murmur of complaint . Pain heaped ten - hundred - fold to this , were still Less burthen , by ten - hundred - fold , 150 ST . SIMEON STYLITES . St Simeon Stylites.
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The Poetical Works of Alfred Tennyson, Poet Laureate Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson Полный просмотр - 1867 |
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answer arms beat beneath betwixt blazoned blood blow breast breath brows Camelot cheek child crown Cyril dark dead dear death deep dipt Dora dream dropt earth Edwin Morris Excalibur eyes face fair fall fancy father fear flower flying forever golden grave hall hand happy happy day hath head hear heard heart Heaven hills hour king King Arthur kiss Lady Lady of Shalott land light lips live Locksley Hall look Lord maiden Maud mind moon morn mother move murmur muse night o'er Oriana peace Princess Ida Psyche Ring rolled rose round scorn seemed shadow shadowing bluff shame SIMEON STYLITES sing Sir Bedivere sleep smile song soul spake speak spirit star stept stood summer sweet tears thee thine things thou thought touch truth unto vext voice weep whisper wild wind woman words yonder
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Стр. 450 - is but seed Whereof the man, that with me trod This planet, was a noble type Appearing ere the times were ripe, That friend of mine who lives in God, That God, which ever lives and loves, One God, one law, one element, And one far-off divine event, To which the whole creation moves. MAUD. I. 1.
Стр. 184 - hath yet his honor and his toil ; Death closes all : but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods. The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks : The long day wanes : the slow moon climbs : the Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
Стр. 441 - are shadows, and they flow From form to form, and nothing stands ; They melt like mist, the solid lands, Like clouds they shape themselves and go. But in my spirit will I dwell, For though my lips may breathe adieu, I cannot think the thing farewell. And dream my dream, and hold it true
Стр. 92 - SONG. 1. There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass ; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes ; Music that brings sweet sleep
Стр. 92 - skies. Here are cool mosses deep, And through the moss the ivies creep, And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep, And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep. 2. Why are we weighed upon with heaviness, And utterly consumed with sharp distress, While all things else have rest from weariness ? Ah
Стр. 63 - Yet not for power, (power of herself Would come uncalled for,) but to live by law, Acting the law we live by without fear ; And because right is right, to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence/ " Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die, Again she said
Стр. 79 - Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood. But sickening of a vague disease, You know so ill to deal with time, You needs must play such pranks as these. Clara, Clara Vere de
Стр. 355 - v. I SOMETIMES hold it half a sin To put in words the grief I feel, For words, like nature, half reveal And half conceal the Soul within. But, for the unquiet heart and brain, A use in measured language lies ; The sad mechanic exercise, Like dull narcotics, numbing pain.
Стр. 181 - Be each man's rule, and universal Peace Lie like a shaft of light across the land, And like a lane of beams athwart the sea, Through all the circle of the golden year ? " Thus far he flowed, and ended ; whereupon " Ah, folly ! " in mimic cadence answered James—• " Ah, folly ! for it lies so far away,
Стр. 83 - ill be the happiest time of all the glad New-year : So you must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear, To-morrow 'ill be of all the year the maddest, merriest day, For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o