Enjoyment of Poetry

Voorkant
C. Scribner's Sons, 1921 - 254 pagina's
 

Geselecteerde pagina's

Inhoudsopgave

I
3
II
20
III
37
IV
47
V
59
VI
66
VII
89
VIII
98
IX
113
X
124
XI
136
XII
154
XIII
168
XIV
178
XV
189

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Populaire passages

Pagina 125 - The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies ; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs; Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
Pagina 71 - All they that see me laugh me to scorn: They shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying, 8 He trusted on the Lord that he would deliver him: Let him deliver him, seeing he delighted in him.
Pagina 114 - St Agnes' Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold ; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold : Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith...
Pagina 124 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Pagina 115 - A table, and, half anguish'd, threw thereon A cloth of woven crimson, gold, and jet : — O for some drowsy Morphean...
Pagina 114 - Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot-grass, And diamonded with panes of quaint device, Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes, As are the tiger-moth's deep-damask'd wings; And in the midst, 'mong thousand heraldries, And twilight saints, and dim emblazonings, A shielded scutcheon blush'd with blood of queens and kings.
Pagina 155 - 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 zig-zag paths, and juts of pointed rock, 50 Came on the shining levels of the lake.
Pagina 88 - To the Evening Star Thou fair-hair'd angel of the evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed! Smile on our loves, and while thou drawest the Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes, And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full soon, Dost thou withdraw; then the...
Pagina 115 - Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
Pagina 195 - tis not what man Does which exalts him, but what man Would do!

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