Tennyson's Complete Works: (Including Queen Mary)R.Worthington, 1876 |
Vyhledávání v knize
Výsledky 1-5 z 85
Strana 3
... Past Yabbok brook the livelong night , And heaven's mazed signs stood still In the dim tract of Penuel . MADELIN E. I. THOU art not steep'd in golden languors , No tranced summer calm is thine , Ever varying Madeline . Thro ' light and ...
... Past Yabbok brook the livelong night , And heaven's mazed signs stood still In the dim tract of Penuel . MADELIN E. I. THOU art not steep'd in golden languors , No tranced summer calm is thine , Ever varying Madeline . Thro ' light and ...
Strana 7
... past away , Ere the placid lips be cold ? Wherefore those faint smiles of thine , Spiritual Adeline ? III . What hope or fear or joy is thine ? Who talketh with thee , Adeline ? For sure thou art not all alone : Do beating hearts of ...
... past away , Ere the placid lips be cold ? Wherefore those faint smiles of thine , Spiritual Adeline ? III . What hope or fear or joy is thine ? Who talketh with thee , Adeline ? For sure thou art not all alone : Do beating hearts of ...
Strana 18
... past into the level flood , And there a vision caught my eye ; The reflex of a beauteous form , A glowing arm , a gleaming neck , As when a sunbeam wavers warm Within the dark and dimpled beck . For you remember , you had set , That ...
... past into the level flood , And there a vision caught my eye ; The reflex of a beauteous form , A glowing arm , a gleaming neck , As when a sunbeam wavers warm Within the dark and dimpled beck . For you remember , you had set , That ...
Strana 19
... Past and Present , wound in one , Do make a garland for the heart : So sing that other song I made , Half - anger'd with my happy lot , The day , when in the chestnut shade I found the blue Forget - me - not . Love that hath us in the ...
... Past and Present , wound in one , Do make a garland for the heart : So sing that other song I made , Half - anger'd with my happy lot , The day , when in the chestnut shade I found the blue Forget - me - not . Love that hath us in the ...
Strana 22
... I must be fair , for yesterday , When I past by , a wild and wanton pard , Eyed like the evening star , with playful tail Crouch'd fawning in the weed . Most loving ( is she ? Ah me , my mountain shepherd , that my arms 22 ENONE .
... I must be fair , for yesterday , When I past by , a wild and wanton pard , Eyed like the evening star , with playful tail Crouch'd fawning in the weed . Most loving ( is she ? Ah me , my mountain shepherd , that my arms 22 ENONE .
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.