Beautiful poetry, selected by the ed. of The Critic, Tom 11853 |
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Strona 47
... leaves as we pass Lay their light fingers on thee unaware , And by thy side the hazels cluster fair , And the low forest - grass Grows green and silken where the wood - paths wind— Alas ! for thee , sweet mother ! thou art blind ! And ...
... leaves as we pass Lay their light fingers on thee unaware , And by thy side the hazels cluster fair , And the low forest - grass Grows green and silken where the wood - paths wind— Alas ! for thee , sweet mother ! thou art blind ! And ...
Strona 50
... leaves the stems behind On which Spring's blossoms hung . I do not dare to call thee dear ! I've lost that right too long ; Yet once again I vex thine ear With memory's idle song . I felt a pride to speak thy name But now that pride is ...
... leaves the stems behind On which Spring's blossoms hung . I do not dare to call thee dear ! I've lost that right too long ; Yet once again I vex thine ear With memory's idle song . I felt a pride to speak thy name But now that pride is ...
Strona 58
... leaves hast never known , — The weariness , the fever , and the fret , Here where men sit and hear each other groan ; Where palsy shakes a few sad , last , grey hairs ; Where youth grows pale , and spectre - thin , and dies ; Where ...
... leaves hast never known , — The weariness , the fever , and the fret , Here where men sit and hear each other groan ; Where palsy shakes a few sad , last , grey hairs ; Where youth grows pale , and spectre - thin , and dies ; Where ...
Strona 62
... to expiate The scorn that crazed his brain : And that she nursed him in a cave , And how his madness went away , When on the yellow forest leaves A dying man he lay : His dying words - but when I reach'd That tend'rest 62 BEAUTIFUL POETRY .
... to expiate The scorn that crazed his brain : And that she nursed him in a cave , And how his madness went away , When on the yellow forest leaves A dying man he lay : His dying words - but when I reach'd That tend'rest 62 BEAUTIFUL POETRY .
Strona 70
... leaf the night her crystals flung , Then hurried off , the dawning to elude ; Before the golden - beaked blackbird sung , Or ere the yellow - brooms or gorses rude Had bared their armed heads in lowly ... leaves , Which 70 BEAUTIFUL POETRY .
... leaf the night her crystals flung , Then hurried off , the dawning to elude ; Before the golden - beaked blackbird sung , Or ere the yellow - brooms or gorses rude Had bared their armed heads in lowly ... leaves , Which 70 BEAUTIFUL POETRY .
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Popularne fragmenty
Strona 76 - Of aspect more sublime : that blessed mood In which the burthen of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world. Is lightened; that serene and blessed mood. In which the affections gently lead us on, Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul...
Strona 190 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Strona 52 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Strona 367 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore...
Strona 5 - All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Strona 4 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Strona 364 - Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,— " Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, " art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore !" Quoth the Raven,
Strona 240 - Ye stars ! which are the poetry of heaven ! If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Of men and empires, — 'tis to be forgiven, That in our aspirations to be great, Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state, And claim a kindred with you ; for ye are A beauty and a mystery, and create In us such love and reverence from afar, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star...
Strona 53 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
Strona 297 - Look here, upon this picture, and on this, The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. See what a grace was seated on this brow ; Hyperion's curls, the front of Jove himself, An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill ; A combination and a form indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.