Poems, المجلد 2Edward Moxon & Company, Dover Street, 1868 - 879 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 15
... arms , and feels Her place is empty , fall like these ; Which weep a loss forever new , A void where heart on heart reposed ; And , where warm hands have prest and clos'd , Silence , till I be silent too . Which weep the comrade of my ...
... arms , and feels Her place is empty , fall like these ; Which weep a loss forever new , A void where heart on heart reposed ; And , where warm hands have prest and clos'd , Silence , till I be silent too . Which weep the comrade of my ...
الصفحة 22
... arms To feel from world to world , and charms Her secret from the latest moon ? " Behold , ye speak an idle thing : Ye never knew the sacred dust : I do but sing because I must , And pipe but as the linnets sing : And one is glad ; her ...
... arms To feel from world to world , and charms Her secret from the latest moon ? " Behold , ye speak an idle thing : Ye never knew the sacred dust : I do but sing because I must , And pipe but as the linnets sing : And one is glad ; her ...
الصفحة 82
... arms about the field . But when those others , one by one , Withdrew themselves from me and night , And in the house light after light Went out , and I was all alone , A hunger seized my heart ; I read Of that glad year that once had ...
... arms about the field . But when those others , one by one , Withdrew themselves from me and night , And in the house light after light Went out , and I was all alone , A hunger seized my heart ; I read Of that glad year that once had ...
الصفحة 83
... arms about the field : And , suck'd from out the distant gloom , A breeze began to tremble o'er The large leaves of the sycamore , And fluctuate all the still perfume , And gathering freshlier overhead , Rock'd the full - foliaged IN ...
... arms about the field : And , suck'd from out the distant gloom , A breeze began to tremble o'er The large leaves of the sycamore , And fluctuate all the still perfume , And gathering freshlier overhead , Rock'd the full - foliaged IN ...
الصفحة 91
... arms To one pure image of regret . CII . ON that last night before we went From out the doors where I was bred , I dream'd a vision of the dead , Which left my after - morn content . Methought I dwelt within a hall , ' And maidens with ...
... arms To one pure image of regret . CII . ON that last night before we went From out the doors where I was bred , I dream'd a vision of the dead , Which left my after - morn content . Methought I dwelt within a hall , ' And maidens with ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
answer'd arms Arthur ask'd Astolat Aylmer beat blood break breath Caerleon call'd Camelot chidden child dark dark moor dead dear death diamond dream Dubric earth Enid ev'n evermore eyes face fair Fair lord fame fancy father fear feet flower follow'd Gawain Geraint glory golden gone grief Guinevere half hall hand happy head hear heard heart heaven horse hour jousts Katie King kiss'd knew land Lavaine light Limours little birdie live look'd lord maid maiden martial music Maud Merlin morn moved never night noble o'er once passion peace poison'd Prince Queen Ring Ringlet rode rose seem'd shadow shame silent Sir Lancelot sleep smile song sorrow soul spake sparrow-hawk speak star stood sweet talk'd tears thee thine things thou thought thro tower true turn'd vext Vivien voice weep wild wrought
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 73 - RING out wild bells to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light : The year is dying in the night ; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow : The year is going, let him go ; Ring out the false, ring in the true.
الصفحة 5 - I HELD it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.
الصفحة 181 - 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!" he said. Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade!
الصفحة 43 - Oh yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood ; That nothing walks with aimless feet ; That not one life shall be destroyed, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...
الصفحة 3 - Thou wilt not leave us in the dust : Thou madest man, he knows not why, He thinks he was not made to die ; And thou hast made him : thou art just.
الصفحة 182 - Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and shell, While horse and hero fell, They that had fought so well Came thro...
الصفحة 160 - I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers ; I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows ; I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows. I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses ; I linger by my shingly bars ; I loiter round my cresses ; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
الصفحة 141 - She is coming, my dove, my dear ; She is coming, my life, my fate; The red rose cries, " She is near, she is near; And the white rose weeps, " She is late ; " The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;" And the lily whispers,
الصفحة 180 - O WELL for him whose will is strong ! He suffers, but he will not suffer long ; He suffers, but he cannot suffer wrong : For him nor moves the loud world's random mock, Nor all Calamity's hugest waves confound, Who seems a promontory of rock, That, compass'd round with turbulent sound, In middle ocean meets the surging shock, Tempest-buffeted, citadel-crown'd. II. But ill for him who, bettering not with time, Corrupts the strength of heaven-descended Will, And ever weaker grows thro...
الصفحة 140 - And the soul of the rose went into my blood, As the music clash'd in the hall; And long by the garden lake I stood, For I heard your rivulet fall From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood, Our wood, that is dearer than all ; From the meadow your walks have left so sweet That, whenever a March-wind sighs, He sets the jewel-print of your feet In violets blue as your eyes, To the woody hollows in which we meet And the valleys of Paradise.