Tennyson's Complete Works: (Including Queen Mary)R.Worthington, 1876 |
Vyhledávání v knize
Výsledky 1-5 z 84
Strana 2
... broken sheds look'd sad and strange : Unlifted was the clinking latch ; Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange . She only said ,,, My life is dreary , He cometh not , " she said ; She said , I am aweary ...
... broken sheds look'd sad and strange : Unlifted was the clinking latch ; Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange . She only said ,,, My life is dreary , He cometh not , " she said ; She said , I am aweary ...
Strana 18
... broken thro ' By some wild skylark's matin song . And oft I heard the tender dove In firry woodlands making moan ; But ere saw your eyes , my love , I had no motion of my own . For scarce my life with fancy play'd Before I dream'd that ...
... broken thro ' By some wild skylark's matin song . And oft I heard the tender dove In firry woodlands making moan ; But ere saw your eyes , my love , I had no motion of my own . For scarce my life with fancy play'd Before I dream'd that ...
Strana 33
... broken so remain . The Gods are hard to reconcile : " Tis hard to settle order once again . There is confusion worse than death , Trouble on trouble , pain on pain , Long labour unto aged breath , Sore task to hearts worn out with many ...
... broken so remain . The Gods are hard to reconcile : " Tis hard to settle order once again . There is confusion worse than death , Trouble on trouble , pain on pain , Long labour unto aged breath , Sore task to hearts worn out with many ...
Strana 41
... broke From either side , nor veil his eyes : And if some dreadful need should rise Would strike , and firmly , and one stroke : To - morrow yet would reap to - day , As we bear blossoms of the dead ; Earn well the thrifty months , nor ...
... broke From either side , nor veil his eyes : And if some dreadful need should rise Would strike , and firmly , and one stroke : To - morrow yet would reap to - day , As we bear blossoms of the dead ; Earn well the thrifty months , nor ...
Strana 42
... broken chancel with a broken cross , That stood on a dark strait of barren land . On one side lay the Ocean , and on one Lay a great water , and the moon was full . Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere : The sequel of to - day ...
... broken chancel with a broken cross , That stood on a dark strait of barren land . On one side lay the Ocean , and on one Lay a great water , and the moon was full . Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere : The sequel of to - day ...
Běžně se vyskytující výrazy a sousloví
answer'd arms Arthur ask'd blood breast breath Caerleon call'd Camelot child court cried Dagonet dark dead dear death dream Dubric earth Eliz Enid ev'n evermore Excalibur eyes face fair father fear fire flower follow'd fool Gareth Gawain Geraint golden grace Guinevere hall hand happy hast hate hath head hear heard heart heaven holy horse hour jousts King King Arthur kiss kiss'd knew Lady Lady of Shalott land Lavaine light Limours live look look'd Lord maid maiden Mary Merlin moon morn mother move never night noble o'er once Oriana Philip Prince Queen rode rose round seem'd shadow shame Sir Bedivere Sir Lancelot Sir Pelleas sleep smile song soul Spain spake speak star stept stood sweet tears thee thine things thought thro tower turn'd vext voice wild wind Wyatt
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 86 - BREAK, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea ! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play ! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead...
Strana 360 - Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
Strana 156 - And thinking of the days that are no more. 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.
Strana 120 - 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...
Strana 61 - Myself not least, but honoured of them all; And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move.
Strana 42 - And answer made King Arthur, breathing hard: " My end draws nigh ; 'tis time that I were gone. Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight, And bear me to the margin ; yet I fear My wound hath taken cold, and I shall die.
Strana 41 - And in the moon athwart the place of tombs, Where lay the mighty bones of ancient men, Old knights, and over them the sea-wind sang Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He, stepping down By zigzag paths, and juts of pointed rock, Came on the shining levels of the lake. There drew he forth the brand Excalibur, And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon, Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt...
Strana 62 - Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho...
Strana 103 - I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Strana 41 - Stored in some treasure-house of mighty kings, Some one might show it at a joust of arms, Saying, 'King Arthur's sword, Excalibur, Wrought by the lonely maiden of the Lake. Nine years she wrought it, sitting in the deeps Upon the hidden bases of the hills.