Beautiful poetry, selected by the ed. of The Critic, Tom 5 |
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Strona 66
Instead of dreamings vain , Of joys thou fondly hopest shall be thine , Bethink
thee of the pain That sin and sorrow round thy coils will twine . And think not
happiness But dwelleth with the bird , the flower , the bee ; And think not from
distress ...
Instead of dreamings vain , Of joys thou fondly hopest shall be thine , Bethink
thee of the pain That sin and sorrow round thy coils will twine . And think not
happiness But dwelleth with the bird , the flower , the bee ; And think not from
distress ...
Strona 78
Fallen angel , the wings which , in pilgrimage human , The fates have withheld , I
shall render to thee ! ” Lets drink of the rapturous kisses of woman ; For death
wears no longer its terrors for me . " Again will I come , " she pursues , “ and with ...
Fallen angel , the wings which , in pilgrimage human , The fates have withheld , I
shall render to thee ! ” Lets drink of the rapturous kisses of woman ; For death
wears no longer its terrors for me . " Again will I come , " she pursues , “ and with ...
Strona 81
... Thee flies , From his that on Thy Love relies . Since I the busy haunts of men
forsook , Their heart ' s - food have I never ta ' en I trow , My hair is greyer than the
aged oak ; My days are writ in wrinkles on my brow , And years but add fresh ...
... Thee flies , From his that on Thy Love relies . Since I the busy haunts of men
forsook , Their heart ' s - food have I never ta ' en I trow , My hair is greyer than the
aged oak ; My days are writ in wrinkles on my brow , And years but add fresh ...
Strona 82
To him whose ONE desire is bound in Thee All time is but one day — that day ,
eternity ! By silence and long solitude , My senses are grown dull and rude ; My
ears unskill ' d in human sounds remain ; To frame its tones my mouth essays in ...
To him whose ONE desire is bound in Thee All time is but one day — that day ,
eternity ! By silence and long solitude , My senses are grown dull and rude ; My
ears unskill ' d in human sounds remain ; To frame its tones my mouth essays in ...
Strona 86
... ll bring Thee to the stand , where honour ' d Homer reads His Odes and his
high Iliads ; About whose throne the crowd of poets throng To hear the
incantation of his tongue : To Linus then to Pindar ; and that done , 86
BEAUTIFUL POETRY .
... ll bring Thee to the stand , where honour ' d Homer reads His Odes and his
high Iliads ; About whose throne the crowd of poets throng To hear the
incantation of his tongue : To Linus then to Pindar ; and that done , 86
BEAUTIFUL POETRY .
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Popularne fragmenty
Strona 159 - O'er other creatures : yet when I approach Her loveliness, so absolute she seems, And in herself complete, so well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best...
Strona 173 - YES! in the sea of life enisled, With echoing straits between us thrown, Dotting the shoreless watery wild, We mortal millions live alone.
Strona 87 - How wonderful is Death, Death and his brother Sleep ! One, pale as yonder waning moon With lips of lurid blue ; The other, rosy as the morn When throned on ocean's wave It blushes o'er the world : Yet both so passing wonderful...
Strona 384 - And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam 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.
Strona 383 - The path of duty was the way to glory : He that walks it, only thirsting For the right, and learns to deaden Love of self, before his journey closes, He shall find the stubborn thistle bursting Into glossy purples, which outredden All voluptuous garden-roses. Not once or twice in our fair island-story, He, that ever following her commands, On with toil of heart and knees and hands, Thro...
Strona 272 - Long, sparkling aisles of steel-stemmed trees Bending to counterfeit a breeze; Sometimes the roof no fretwork knew But silvery mosses that downward grew; Sometimes it was carved in sharp relief With quaint arabesques...
Strona 217 - Or hear'st thou rather pure ethereal stream, Whose fountain who shall tell? Before the sun, Before the heavens, thou wert, and at the voice Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest The rising world of waters dark and deep, Won from the void and formless Infinite!
Strona 95 - Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory — Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.
Strona 193 - Wanderers in that happy valley Through two luminous windows saw Spirits moving musically, To a lute's well-tuned law, Round about a throne where, sitting, "Porphyrogene, In state his glory well befitting, The ruler of the realm was seen.
Strona 383 - And all the rule, one empire: only add Deeds to thy knowledge answerable; add faith, Add virtue, patience, temperance; add love, By name to come call'd charity, the soul Of all the rest: then wilt thou not be loath To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess A paradise within thee, happier far.