Co říkají ostatní - Napsat recenzi
Na obvyklých místech jsme nenalezli žádné recenze.
beauty bells bird breath bright bring close comes dark dead dear death deep door doth dream earth eyes face fair fall fear feel field fire flow flowers give golden green hand happy hath head hear heard heart Heaven hope hour human keep king knew land leaves light lips live look Lord meet mind moon morning never night o'er once pain passed past play pleasure poor rest ring rise river rose round seen side silent sing sleep smile song soul sound spirit spring stand stars strong sweet tears tell thee there's thine things thou thought true turn voice wander weary wild wind wings young
Strana 2903 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: — Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Strana 2977 - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone : Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare ; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve ; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair...
Strana 2994 - The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks ; The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, '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...
Strana 2977 - THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness!* Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
Strana 3018 - I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years ; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind ; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter. Up vistaed hopes I sped ; And shot, precipitated, Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears, From those strong Feet that followed, followed after. But with unhurrying chase, 10 And unperturbed pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, They beat — and a Voice beat More instant than the Feet...
Strana 3053 - O Scotia! my dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent, Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content! And...
Strana 3092 - mong thousand heraldries, And twilight saints, and dim emblazonings, A shielded 'scutcheon blushed with blood of queens and kings. Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon ; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint ; She seemed a splendid angel, newly drest, Save wings, for heaven. Porphyro grew faint : She knelt, so pure...
Strana 2926 - FROM harmony, from heavenly harmony, This universal frame began : When nature underneath a heap Of jarring atoms lay, And could not heave her head, The tuneful voice was heard from high, Arise, ye more than dead. Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry, In order to their stations leap, And Music's power obey. From harmony, from heavenly harmony This universal frame began : From harmony to harmony, Through all the compass of the notes it ran, The diapason closing full in Man.
Strana 2771 - The Moving Finger writes ; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
Strana 2887 - For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that, The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher ranks than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that — That sense and worth o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a' that, and a' that, It's coming yet, for a