In memoriam [by A. Tennyson]. |
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
ambrosial beat Behold bells bliss blood bloom blow break breast breath bring brows calm cloud cold crown'd Danube dark darken'd dead dear Death deep dipt divine doubt dream dust dying earth ev'n evermore eyes fades fair faith faithless fall fall'n fancy fear feel flower gloom golden hour grave grief half hand happy happy days harp hath hear heart heaven hills hope Hope and Fear hour human land leaf leave light lips lives look look'd love thee LUDGATE HILL lying lip marge mind moon morn move Muse night o'er once pain peace race regret rills Ring rise round seem'd Seraphic shade Shadow shore sing sleep song sorrow soul Spring star sweet tears thine things thou art thought thro touch'd trust truth unto voice walk'd weep whisper WHITEFRIARS wild wild bells wilt wind wings words wrought yonder
Populaire passages
Pagina 1 - I held it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.
Pagina 77 - 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 destroy'd, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...
Pagina 22 - Should strike a sudden hand in mine, And ask a thousand things of home ; And I should tell him all my pain, And how my life had...
Pagina 79 - Are God and Nature then at strife, That Nature lends such evil dreams? So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single life...
Pagina 187 - I trust I have not wasted breath: I think we are not wholly brain, Magnetic mockeries; not in vain, Like Paul with beasts, I fought with Death; Not only cunning casts in clay: Let Science prove we are, and then What matters Science unto men, At least to me? I would not stay.
Pagina 203 - Flow thro' our deeds and make them pure, That we may lift from out of dust A voice as unto him that hears, A cry above the conquer' d years To one that with us works, and trust, With faith that comes of self-control, The truths that never can be proved Until we close with all we loved, And all we flow from, soul in soul.
Pagina 76 - How many a father have I seen, A sober man, among his boys, Whose youth was full of foolish noise, Who wears his manhood hale and green: And dare we to this fancy give, That had the wild oat not been sown, The soil, left barren, scarce had grown The grain by which a man may live...
Pagina 180 - Now rings the woodland loud and long, The distance takes a lovelier hue, And drown'd in yonder living blue The lark becomes a sightless song. Now dance the lights on lawn and lea, The flocks are whiter down the vale, And milkier every milky sail On winding stream or distant sea ; Where now the seamew pipes...
Pagina 77 - So runs my dream : but what am I ? An infant crying in the night : An infant crying for the light : And with no language but a cry.
Pagina 6 - Other friends remain,' That 'Loss is common to the race' And common is the commonplace, And vacant chaff well meant for grain. That loss is common would not make My own less bitter, rather more: Too common! Never morning wore To evening, but some heart did break.