The princess, a medley |
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Стр. 21
... peace , No critic I would call them masterpieces : They mastered me . At last she begged a boon , A certain summer palace which I have Hard by your father's frontier : I said no , Yet being an easy man , gave it ; and there , All wild ...
... peace , No critic I would call them masterpieces : They mastered me . At last she begged a boon , A certain summer palace which I have Hard by your father's frontier : I said no , Yet being an easy man , gave it ; and there , All wild ...
Стр. 38
... peace ! and why should I not play The Spartan Mother with emotion , be The Lucius Junius Brutus of my kind ? Him you call great : : he for the common weal , The fading politics of mortal Rome , As I might slay this child , if good need ...
... peace ! and why should I not play The Spartan Mother with emotion , be The Lucius Junius Brutus of my kind ? Him you call great : : he for the common weal , The fading politics of mortal Rome , As I might slay this child , if good need ...
Стр. 41
... peace , For Solomon may come to Sheba yet . " 66 Said Cyril , Madam , he the wisest man , Feasted the woman wisest then , in halls Of Lebanonian cedar : nor should you ( Though madam you should answer , we would ask ) Less welcome find ...
... peace , For Solomon may come to Sheba yet . " 66 Said Cyril , Madam , he the wisest man , Feasted the woman wisest then , in halls Of Lebanonian cedar : nor should you ( Though madam you should answer , we would ask ) Less welcome find ...
Стр. 57
... Peace , you young savage of the Northern wild ! What ! though your Prince's love were like a God's , Have we not made ourself the sacrifice ? You are bold indeed : we are not talked to thus : Yet will we say for children , would they ...
... Peace , you young savage of the Northern wild ! What ! though your Prince's love were like a God's , Have we not made ourself the sacrifice ? You are bold indeed : we are not talked to thus : Yet will we say for children , would they ...
Стр. 69
... Peace be with her . She is dead . So they blaspheme the muse ! but great is song Used to great ends : ourself have often tried Valkyrian hymns , or into rhythm have dashed The passion of the prophetess : for song Is duer unto freedom ...
... Peace be with her . She is dead . So they blaspheme the muse ! but great is song Used to great ends : ourself have often tried Valkyrian hymns , or into rhythm have dashed The passion of the prophetess : for song Is duer unto freedom ...
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answered Arac arms babe betwixt blazoned Blow boys breast breathe brows cataract champaign cheek child clamor cried Cyril dark daughter dead dear death dipt dream dropt dying echoes enemies have fallen eyes face fair father fear fell fight Florian flowers flying follow gazed girl glance glow-worm half hall hand head hear heard heart Heaven king kissed knew Lady Blanche Lady Psyche land leopards light Lilia lips lives looked maiden maids Melissa morning mother moved murmured Muses night noble o'er ourselves palace peace Prince Princess Princess Ida Psyche's rapt rode rolled rose sang sdeath seemed shadow shame shook shriek smile song soul spake speak spoke star stept stood strange sweet Sweet and low Sweet dream talked tears tempest tender thee thou thought touch troth True woman trumpet vext voice wild Winter's tale woman women
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Стр. 47 - 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. 66 - 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. 65 - ... 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. 63 - The splendor 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. 139 - Their thousand wreaths of dangling water-smoke, That like a broken purpose waste in air : So waste not thou ; but come ; for all the vales Await thee ; azure pillars of the hearth Arise to thee ; the children call, and I Thy shepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet...
Стр. 113 - Call'd him worthy to be loved, Truest friend and noblest foe ; Yet she neither spoke nor moved. Stole a maiden from her place, Lightly to the warrior stept, Took the face-cloth from the face Yet she neither moved nor wept.
Стр. 129 - Ask me no more. Ask me no more: what answer should I give? I love not hollow cheek or faded eye : Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die ! Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live; Ask me no more.
Стр. 31 - This world was once a fluid haze of light, Till toward the centre set the starry tides, And eddied into suns, that wheeling cast The planets...
Стр. 147 - Or all, they said, as earnest as the close ? Which yet with such a framework scarce could be. Then rose a little feud betwixt the two, Betwixt the mockers and the realists : And I, betwixt them both, to please them both. And yet to give the story as it rose, I moved as in a strange diagonal, And maybe neither pleased myself nor them.
Стр. 48 - Morn in the white wake of the morning star Came furrowing all the orient into gold. We rose, and each by other drest with care Descended to the court that lay three parts In shadow, but the Muses' heads were touch'd Above the darkness from their native East.