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Ballads beauty bezide bird Blanchisseuse blow born breath bright Camelot Christina Rossetti cloud dark dawn dead dear death deep delight dream earth Edwin of Deira Emily Lawless English eyes face fair feel feet fire flame flowers friends grave green grey Guinevere hair hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill J. K. Stephen King kiss Lady of Shalott land light lips live lyric Mary Coleridge moon morning never night o'er once pain pass passion poems poet poetic poetry prose published R. W. Dixon rose round Rupert Brooke shadows silence sing Sir Bedivere sleep smile song soul spirit spring stars strange stream sweet Swinburne tears Tennyson thee thine things thou thought thro touch verse voice volume vrom W. S. Gilbert waves wild wind wonder words write youth
Pagina 129 - There rolls the deep where grew the tree. O earth, what changes hast thou seen ! There where the long street roars, hath been The stillness of the central sea. • The hills are shadows, and they flow From form to form, and nothing stands ; They melt like mist, the solid lands, Like clouds they shape themselves and go.
Pagina 158 - Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho...
Pagina 122 - In offices of tenderness, and pay Meet adoration to my household gods, When I am gone. He works his work, I mine. There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail: There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners, Souls that have...
Pagina 9 - Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; "Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast.
Pagina 122 - As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains : but every hour is saved From that eternal silence, something more, A bringer of new things ; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself, And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star.
Pagina 643 - That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed ; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home. And think, this heart, all evil shed away, A pulse in the eternal mind, no less Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given ; Her sights and sounds ; dreams happy as her day ; And...
Pagina 30 - For thence, — a paradox Which comforts while it mocks, — • Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail: What I aspired to be, And was not, comforts me: A brute I might have been, but would not sink i
Pagina 127 - Oh yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood ; That nothing walks with aimless feet ; That not one life shall be destroyed, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...
Pagina 256 - Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the branches sang, Ah whence, and whither flown again, who knows!