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answer'd Arac arms ask'd babe betwixt Blow boys breathe broken brows call'd Cassiopeia cataract child clamour cried Cyril dark daughter dead dear death Diotima dipt dream dropt dying enemies have fall'n enter'd eyes face fair father fell fight Florian flowers flying follow'd gates gazed girl glance glowworm golden half hall hand head hear heard heart Heaven kind of monster king kiss'd knew Lady Blanche Lady Psyche land laugh'd light Lilia lips lives look'd maiden maids Melissa morning mother moved night noble o'er ourselves peace Persephone Prince Princess Princess Ida Psyche's push'd rapt rode roll'd rose sang seem'd shadow shame shook song spake speak spoke star stept stood strange sweet Sweet and low Sweet dream talk'd tears tender thee thou thought thro troth True woman trumpet turn'd vext voice wild Winter's tale woman women
Strona 52 - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon...
Strona 165 - That like a broken purpose waste in air : So waste not thou ; but come; for all the vales Await thee ; azure pillars of the hearth Arise to thee; the children call, and I Thy shepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet; Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moan of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees.
Strona 72 - Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear ! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going ! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing ! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying : Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Strona 78 - O Swallow, Swallow, if I could follow, and light Upon her lattice, I would pipe and trill, And cheep and twitter twenty million loves. " O were I thou that she might take me in, And lay me on her bosom, and her heart Would rock the snowy cradle till I died.
Strona 152 - Ask me no more : the moon may draw the sea ; The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape, With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape ; But O too fond, when have I answer'd thee? Ask me no more.
Strona 75 - Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.
Strona 131 - Took the face-cloth from the face; Yet she neither moved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child upon her knee — Like summer tempest came her tears — " Sweet my child, I live for thee.
Strona 153 - Ask me no more. Ask me no more: what answer should I give? I love not hollow cheek or faded eye : Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die ! Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live; Ask me no more.