PoemsMacmillan, 1879 - 370 sider |
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Æsir Afrasiab answer'd arms art thou Asgard Balder blood breast breath Breidablik bright brow Callicles calm cheek clear cold cries crown'd dark dead death deep dost doth dream earth Empedocles eyes fame father Fausta Fcap feel FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE gaze gloom Gods golden gone grass grave green grey grief hair hand hath head hear heard heart Heaven Hela Hela's Hermod hills Hoder hour Iacchus Iseult King light Lityerses live lonely look'd morn Niflheim night o'er Obermann Odin Odin's once Oxus pain pale pass'd Pausanias POEMS round Rustum sand sate Seistan shining sings sleep Sleipner smile Sohrab soul spake spear spirit stand stars stood stream strife sweet Tartar tears thee thine things thou art thou hast thought to-day Tristram voice wandering waves weep wild wilt wind wood young youth
Populære passager
Side 297 - Thou -waitest for the spark from heaven! and we, Light half-believers of our casual creeds, Who never deeply felt, nor clearly will'd...
Side 2 - Shakespeare OTHERS abide our question. Thou art free. We ask and ask — Thou smilest and art still, Out-topping knowledge. For the loftiest hill, Who to the stars uncrowns his majesty, Planting his steadfast footsteps in the sea, Making the heaven of heavens his dwelling-place, Spares but the cloudy border of his base To the...
Side 212 - But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world.
Side 309 - He too upon a wintry clime Had fallen — on this iron time Of doubts, disputes, distractions, fears. He found us when the age had bound Our souls in its benumbing round ; He spoke, and loosed our heart in tears. He laid us as we lay at birth On the cool flowery lap of earth...
Side 173 - And will not, then, the immortal armies scorn The world's poor, routed leavings ? or will they, Who fail'd under the heat of this life's day, Support the fervours of the heavenly morn ? No, no ! the energy of life may be Kept on after the grave, but not begun ; And he who flagg'd not in the earthly strife, From strength to strength advancing — only he, His soul well-knit, and all his battles won, Mounts, and that hardly, to eternal life.
Side 276 - Unaffrighted by the silence round them, Undistracted by the sights they see, These demand not that the things without them Yield them love, amusement, sympathy.
Side 303 - I know the wood which hides the daffodil, I know the Fyfield tree, I know what white, what purple fritillaries The grassy harvest of the river-fields, Above by Ensham, down by Sandford, yields, And what sedged brooks are Thames's tributaries ; I know these slopes; who knows them if not I?
Side 340 - Ye slumber in your silent grave! — The world, which for an idle day Grace to your mood of sadness gave, Long since hath flung her weeds away.
Side 291 - And in the sun all morning binds the sheaves, Then here, at noon, comes back his stores to use — Here will I sit and wait, While to my ear from uplands far away The bleating of the folded flocks is borne, With distant cries of reapers in the corn — All the live murmur of a summer's day.
Side 293 - mid their drink and clatter, he would fly. And I myself seem half to know thy looks, And put the shepherds, wanderer! on thy trace...