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beauty beneath bird blue breath bright clouds coming dark dead dear death deep door doth dreams earth eyes face fair fairy fall fancy fear feel flower follow give golden gray green grow half hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hour JOHN keep lady land leaves light live looked Lord lost mind moon morning move nature never night o'er once pass play pleasure rest rise river rose round seemed seen shadows shore sigh silence sing sleep smile snow soft song soul sound spirit stands stars stood strange stream sweet tears tell thee things thou thought Till Translation tree turned voice waters wave wild wind wings
Стр. 215 - The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
Стр. 130 - And now the Storm-blast came, and he Was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings And chased us south along. With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled.
Стр. 141 - It ceased ; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Стр. 250 - But, hail! thou Goddess sage and holy! Hail, divinest Melancholy! Whose saintly visage is too bright To hit the sense of human sight, And therefore to our weaker view O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue; Black, but such as in esteem Prince Memnon's sister might beseem, Or that starred Ethiop queen that strove To set her beauty's praise above The Sea-Nymphs, and their powers offended.
Стр. 143 - But tell me, tell me! speak again, Thy soft response renewing— What makes that ship drive on so fast? What is the ocean doing?' Second Voice 'Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the Moon is cast— If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him.
Стр. 337 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: — Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Стр. 204 - A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread — and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness — Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
Стр. 369 - TWAS at the royal feast for Persia won By Philip's warlike son — • Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne ; His valiant peers...
Стр. 156 - Not the least obeisance made he ; not an instant stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door- — Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door — Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into Sottg? of smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, " Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou...
Стр. 141 - Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the Sun; Slowly the sounds came back again, Now mixed, now one by one. Sometimes a-dropping from the sky I heard the sky-lark sing; Sometimes all little birds that are, How they seemed to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning! And now 'twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song, That makes the heavens be mute.