The princess. With illustr. from drawings by D. Maclise |
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Strona 19
... dead In iron gauntlets : break the council up . ' But when the council broke , I rose and past Thro ' the wild woods that hung about the town ; Found a still place , and pluck'd her likeness out ; Laid it on flowers , and watch'd it ...
... dead In iron gauntlets : break the council up . ' But when the council broke , I rose and past Thro ' the wild woods that hung about the town ; Found a still place , and pluck'd her likeness out ; Laid it on flowers , and watch'd it ...
Strona 69
... than a girl ; As girls were once , as we ourselves have been : We had our dreams ; perhaps he mixt with them : We touch on our dead self , nor shun to do it , Being other since we learnt our meaning here , To A MEDLEY . 69.
... than a girl ; As girls were once , as we ourselves have been : We had our dreams ; perhaps he mixt with them : We touch on our dead self , nor shun to do it , Being other since we learnt our meaning here , To A MEDLEY . 69.
Strona 86
... dead . So they blaspheme the muse ! But great is song . Used to great ends : ourself have often tried Valkyrian hymns , or into rhythm have dash'd The passion of the prophetess ; for song Is duer unto freedom , force and growth Of ...
... dead . So they blaspheme the muse ! But great is song . Used to great ends : ourself have often tried Valkyrian hymns , or into rhythm have dash'd The passion of the prophetess ; for song Is duer unto freedom , force and growth Of ...
Strona 101
... dead hush the papers that she held Rustle at once the lost lamb at her feet Sent out a bitter bleating for its dam ; The plaintive cry jarr'd on her ire ; she crush'd The scrolls together , made a sudden turn As if to speak , but ...
... dead hush the papers that she held Rustle at once the lost lamb at her feet Sent out a bitter bleating for its dam ; The plaintive cry jarr'd on her ire ; she crush'd The scrolls together , made a sudden turn As if to speak , but ...
Strona 106
... dead . She stretch'd her arms and call'd Across the tumult and the tumult fell . What fear ye brawlers ? am not I your Head ? On me , me , me , the storm first breaks : I dare All these male thunderbolts : what is it ye fear ? Peace ...
... dead . She stretch'd her arms and call'd Across the tumult and the tumult fell . What fear ye brawlers ? am not I your Head ? On me , me , me , the storm first breaks : I dare All these male thunderbolts : what is it ye fear ? Peace ...
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answer'd Arac arms ask'd babe betwixt blow boys brows call'd cataract cheek child clamour clash'd cried Cyril dark dark summer daughter dead dear death Diotima dipt dream dropt dying enemies have fall'n enter'd eyes face fair father fell fight figtree Florian flying follow'd gain'd gates gazed girl glowworm golden half hall hand head hear heard heart Heaven king kiss'd knew Lady Blanche Lady Psyche land light Lilia lips lives look'd maiden maids Melissa morning mother night noble o'er ourselves paces measured palace peace Prince Princess Princess Ida Psyche's push'd rapt remember'd rode roll'd rose sang shadow shame shook side smile solecisms song spake speak spoke star stept stood strange sweet Sweet and low talk'd tears thee thou thought thro troth True woman turn'd Tyrol vext voice wassail wild wild goat woman women
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 50 - 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 74 - Dear as remember'd kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others ; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; O Death in Life, the days that are no more.
Strona 151 - 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 70 - 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 76 - 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 138 - 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 73 - 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 117 - 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 139 - 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.
Strona 73 - 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.