At the Sign of the LyreKegan Paul, Trench, 1889 - Počet stran: 251 |
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Aunt BALLAD Bard Barmecide Beauty beneath beside blooms the eglantine Book Cardenio charming cheek Child Cyclops dear Dolly Dora doubt dreams e'en eau de Cologne eyes fair fancy fate FRANK garden goat grace grow hair hear heart HELEN HENRY FIELDING HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW hither HUGH James's JAMIL JOLICŒUR knew ladies of St laughed least letters lips little Blue-Ribbons look Love's lovers Lucile LYRE Madame maid MISSAL MOLIÈRE Monsieur Muse naught o'er old Sedan chair once Perchance PHIDYLE Phyllida POET POPE praised quoth REVOIR REVOLUTIONARY RELIC Rhyme Rose Savignac scarce seems Sing Tantarara,-Vauxhall smile song soul spray is white STOOPS TO CONQUER surely sweet TALE OF POLYPHEME thee There's thine things thou thought Thrush TOYMAN truth Twas twixt Vauxhall verse wait watch WILLIAM HOGARTH wondering wooed words young youth
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Strana 88 - The full Rose waxed in the warm June air, And she spread and spread, till her heart lay bare, And she laughed once more as she heard his tread, " He is older now. He will soon be dead...
Strana 240 - O'er-top the stone where I shall lie, Though ill or well the world adjust My slender claim to honored dust, I shall not question or reply. I shall not see the morning sky; I shall not hear the night-wind sigh; I shall be mute, as all men must In after days! But yet, now living, fain were I That some one then should testify, Saying — "He held his pen in trust To Art, not serving shame or lust.
Strana 196 - Thought gets dry in the brain. There is that woman again : ' Strawberries ! fourpence a pottle !' Thought gets dry in the brain; Ink gets dry in the bottle. ' Strawberries ! fourpence a pottle !' Oh for the green of a lane !— Ink gets dry in the bottle ;
Strana 222 - Honour stay, — The deeds you wrought are not in vain ! ENVOY. HEROES of old ! I humbly lay The laurel on your graves again ; Whatever men have done, men may, — The deeds you wrought are not in vain.
Strana 229 - WITH slower pen men used to write, Of old, when " letters " were " polite ; " In ANNA'S, or in GEORGE'S days, They could afford to turn a phrase, Or trim a straggling theme aright. They knew not steam ; electric light Not yet had dazed their calmer sight ; — They meted out both blame and praise With slower pen. Too swiftly now the Hours take flight...
Strana 77 - ... valley to follow Apollo. Then we drop from the heights atmospheric To Herrick, Or we pour the Greek honey, grown blander, Of Landor ; Or our cosiest nook in the shade is Where Praed is, Or we toss the light bells of the mocker With Locker. Oh, the song where not one of the Graces Tight-laces, — Where we woo the sweet Muses not starchly, But archly, — Where the verse, like a piper a-Maying, Comes playing, And the rhyme is as gay as a dancer, In answer, — It will last till men weary of pleasure...
Strana 43 - Well the worker earned his wage Bending o'er the blazoned page! Tired the hand and tired the wit Ere the final Explicit! Not as ours the books of old — Things that steam can stamp and fold; Not as ours the books of yore — Rows of type and nothing more.
Strana 25 - Nay," said the other, answering low, — " Nay, I but jested. Is it so ? Take then this coin, . . but take beside A counsel, friend, thou hast not tried. This craft of thine, the mart to suit, Is too refined, — remote, — minute ; These small conceptions can but fail ; 'Twere best to work on larger scale, And rather choose such themes as wear More of the earth and less of air, 2?
Strana 89 - Dispatch its Dogberrys upon thy track : Alas ! poor Knight ! Alas ! poor soul possest ! Yet would to-day when Courtesy grows chill, And life's fine loyalties are turned to jest, Some fire of thine might burn within us still ! Ah, would but one might lay his lance in rest, And charge in earnest . . were it but a mill...
Strana 35 - Her laugh is like a tune;— With a hey, Dolly ! ho, Dolly ! Dolly shall be mine, Before the spray is white with May, Or blooms the eglantine.