Maud, and Other Poems

Przednia okładka
Strahan and Company, 1869 - 170

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Strona 126 - 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...
Strona 170 - Came thro' the jaws of Death Back from the mouth of Hell, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.
Strona 80 - She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat, Were it earth in an earthy bed; My dust would hear her and beat, Had I lain for a century dead; Would start and tremble under her feet, And blossom in purple and red.
Strona 77 - For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky, To faint in the light of the sun she loves, To faint in his light, and to die.
Strona 79 - The slender acacia would not shake One long milk-bloom on the tree ; The white lake-blossom fell into the lake, As the pimpernel dozed on the lea ; But the rose was awake all night for your sake, Knowing your promise to me : - The lilies and roses were all awake, They sigh'd for the dawn and thee.
Strona 168 - Stormed at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of death, Into the mouth of hell Rode the six hundred.
Strona 96 - A shadow flits before me, Not thou, but like to thee : Ah Christ, that it were possible For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.
Strona 6 - And the vitriol madness flushes up in the ruffian's head, Till the filthy by-lane rings to the yell of the trampled wife, And chalk and alum and plaster are sold to the poor for bread, And the spirit of murder works in the very means of life.
Strona 119 - I CHATTER over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Strona 7 - For I trust if an enemy's fleet came yonder round by the hill, And the rushing battle-bolt sang from the three-decker out of the foam, That the smoothfaced snubnosed rogue would leap from his counter and till, And strike, if he could, were it but with his cheating yardwand, home.

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