The Poems of Matthew Arnold, 1840-1867

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Humphrey Milford, Oxford University Press, 1924 - 460 pagina's
 

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Pagina 65 - When did music come this way? Children dear, was it yesterday? Children dear, was it yesterday (Call yet once) that she went away ? Once she sate with you and me, On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea, And the youngest sate on her knee. She comb'd its bright hair, and she tended it well, When down swung the sound of a far-off bell.
Pagina 367 - THE sea is calm to-night. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits ; — on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone ; the cliffs of England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Pagina 67 - And anon there breaks a sigh, And anon there drops a tear, From a sorrow-clouded eye, And a heart sorrow-laden, A long, long sigh; For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden And the gleam of her golden hair. Come away, away children; Come children, come down! The hoarse wind blows coldly; Lights shine in the town.
Pagina 64 - THE FORSAKEN MERMAN, COME, dear children, let us away ; Down and away below ! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great winds shoreward blow, Now the salt tides seaward flow ; Now the wild white horses play, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. Children dear, let us away ! This way, this way ! Call her once before you go— 10 Call once yet ! In a voice that she will know ;
Pagina 177 - With aching hands and bleeding feet We dig and heap, lay stone on stone ; We bear the burden and the heat Of the long day, and wish 'twere done. Not till the hours of light return All we have built do we discern.
Pagina 67 - For the priest, and the bell, and the holy well. For the wheel where I spun. And the blessed light of the sun.
Pagina 66 - She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear; "Margaret, hist ! Come quick, we are here ! Dear heart," I said, "we are long alone; The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan.
Pagina 66 - I must go, for my kinsfolk pray In the little grey church on the shore to-day. 'Twill be Easter-time in the world — ah me! And I lose my poor soul, Merman! here with thee.
Pagina 224 - O born in days when wits were fresh and clear, And life ran gaily as the sparkling Thames; Before this strange disease of modern life, With its sick hurry, its divided aims, Its heads o'ertaxed, its palsied hearts, was rife — Fly hence, our contact fear!
Pagina 121 - Yes! in the sea of life enisled, With echoing straits between us thrown, Dotting the shoreless watery wild, We mortal millions live alone.

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