Tennyson's Complete Works: (Including Queen Mary)R.Worthington, 1876 |
Vyhledávání v knize
Výsledky 1-5 z 85
Strana 19
... dear , so dear , That I would be the jewel That trembles at her ear , For hid in ringlets day and night , I'd touch her neck so warm and white . And I would be the girdle About her dainty dainty waist , And her heart would beat against ...
... dear , so dear , That I would be the jewel That trembles at her ear , For hid in ringlets day and night , I'd touch her neck so warm and white . And I would be the girdle About her dainty dainty waist , And her heart would beat against ...
Strana 20
... Dear eyes , since first I knew them well . Yet tears they shed : they had their part Of sorrow : for when time was ripe , The still affection of the heart Became an outward breathing type , That into stillness past again , And left a ...
... Dear eyes , since first I knew them well . Yet tears they shed : they had their part Of sorrow : for when time was ripe , The still affection of the heart Became an outward breathing type , That into stillness past again , And left a ...
Strana 21
... Dear mother Ida , harken ere I die . For now the noonday quiet holds the hill : The grasshopper is silent in the grass : The lizard , with his shadow on the stone , Rests like a shadow , and the cicala sleeps . The purple flowers droop ...
... Dear mother Ida , harken ere I die . For now the noonday quiet holds the hill : The grasshopper is silent in the grass : The lizard , with his shadow on the stone , Rests like a shadow , and the cicala sleeps . The purple flowers droop ...
Strana 22
... Dear mother Ida , harken ere I die . She ceased , and Paris held the costly fruit Out at arm's - length , so much the thought of ( power Flatter'd his spirit ; but Pallas where she stood Somewhat apart , her clear and bared limbs O ...
... Dear mother Ida , harken ere I die . She ceased , and Paris held the costly fruit Out at arm's - length , so much the thought of ( power Flatter'd his spirit ; but Pallas where she stood Somewhat apart , her clear and bared limbs O ...
Strana 24
... Dear soul , for all is well . " A huge crag - platform , smooth as burnish'd ( brass , I chose . The ranged ramparts bright From level meadow - bates of deep grass Suddenly scaled the light . Thereon I built it firm . Of ledge or shelf ...
... Dear soul , for all is well . " A huge crag - platform , smooth as burnish'd ( brass , I chose . The ranged ramparts bright From level meadow - bates of deep grass Suddenly scaled the light . Thereon I built it firm . Of ledge or shelf ...
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.