The Life and Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson: Works: v.1-2 [Poems] v.3. Experiments. The window. In memoriam A.H.H. Maud. Idylls of the king. v.4 Idylls of the king (Continued) v.5 The lover's tale. Ballads, and other poems. Sonnets. Translations, etc. Tiresias, and other poems. v.6. Queen Mary. Harold. v.7. Becket. The cup. The falcon. The promise of May. v.8. The foresters. Demeter, and other poems. The death of OEnone, and other poems. [IndexesMacmillan, 1899 |
Vyhledávání v knize
Výsledky 1-5 z 40
Strana 8
... arms ; Whom Enoch took , and handled all his limbs , Appraised his weight and fondled father - like , But had no heart to break his purposes To Annie , till the morrow , when he spoke . Then first since Enoch's golden ring had girt Her ...
... arms ; Whom Enoch took , and handled all his limbs , Appraised his weight and fondled father - like , But had no heart to break his purposes To Annie , till the morrow , when he spoke . Then first since Enoch's golden ring had girt Her ...
Strana 11
... arms about his drooping wife , And kiss'd his wonder - stricken little ones ; But for the third , the sickly one , who slept After a night of feverous wakefulness , When Annie would have raised him Enoch said ' Wake him not ; let him ...
... arms about his drooping wife , And kiss'd his wonder - stricken little ones ; But for the third , the sickly one , who slept After a night of feverous wakefulness , When Annie would have raised him Enoch said ' Wake him not ; let him ...
Strana 31
... arms , Caught at and ever miss'd it , and they laugh'd ; And on the left hand of the hearth he saw The mother glancing often toward her babe , But turning now and then to speak with him , Her son , who stood beside her tall and strong ...
... arms , Caught at and ever miss'd it , and they laugh'd ; And on the left hand of the hearth he saw The mother glancing often toward her babe , But turning now and then to speak with him , Her son , who stood beside her tall and strong ...
Strana 37
... arms abroad Crying with a loud voice A sail ! a sail ! I am saved ' ; and so fell back and spoke no more . So past the strong heroic soul away . And when they buried him the little port Had seldom seen a costlier funeral . THE BROOK ...
... arms abroad Crying with a loud voice A sail ! a sail ! I am saved ' ; and so fell back and spoke no more . So past the strong heroic soul away . And when they buried him the little port Had seldom seen a costlier funeral . THE BROOK ...
Strana 65
... arm a tree , but now The broken base of a black tower , a cave Of touchwood , with a single flourishing spray . There the manorial lord too curiously Raking in that millennial touchwood - dust Found for himself a bitter treasure - trove ...
... arm a tree , but now The broken base of a black tower , a cave Of touchwood , with a single flourishing spray . There the manorial lord too curiously Raking in that millennial touchwood - dust Found for himself a bitter treasure - trove ...
Běžně se vyskytující výrazy a sousloví
Alfred Lord Tennyson Annie answer'd arms ask'd Averill babe beän break breathe broke brows call'd Celt child cried Cyril dark dead dear death dream dropt Edith Enoch Enoch Arden ev'n evermore eyes face fair fall'n father fear fell fixt Florian flower flying follow'd girl golden half hall hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven honour hour king knew Lady Psyche land laugh'd Leolin light Lilia little birdie living look'd Lord maiden maids Melissa mixt morning mother moved night noble o'er once peace Philip Prince Princess Princess Ida proputty roll'd rolling rose round seem'd shadow shame shook silent Sir Aylmer sleep soul speak spoke star Stept stood sweet talk'd thee thine things thou thought thro turn'd vext voice wall of night watch'd wife wild Winter's tale woke woman
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 310 - Speak to Him thou, for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet — Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.
Strana 246 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns," he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Strana 41 - 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.
Strana 232 - BURY the Great Duke With an empire's lamentation, Let us bury the Great Duke To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation, Mourning when their leaders fall, Warriors carry the warrior's pall, And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall.
Strana 42 - I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling, And here and there a foamy flake Upon me, as I travel With many a silvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel, And draw them all along, and flow To join the brimming river; For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever.
Strana 156 - The splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Strana 65 - So Leolin went; and as we task ourselves To learn a language known but smatteringly In phrases here and there at random, toil'd Mastering the lawless science of our law, That codeless myriad of precedent, That wilderness of single instances, Thro' which a few, by wit or fortune led, May beat a pathway out to wealth and fame.
Strana 156 - 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. O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river : Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow,...
Strana 213 - I strove against the stream and all in vain : Let the great river take me to the main : No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield; Ask me no more.
Strana 289 - He seems as one whose footsteps halt, Toiling in immeasurable sand, And o'er a weary, sultry land, Far beneath a blazing vault, Sown in a wrinkle of the monstrous hill, The city sparkles like a grain of salt.