In Memoriam, Nummer 1Edward Moxon, Dover street, 1850 - 210 pagina's The famous requiem for the poet's good friend, Arthur Henry Hallam, who died unexpectedly in 1833. "Tis better to have loved and lost," Tennyson writes, "than never to have loved at all." |
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Pagina 32
... that cannot fall , I brim with sorrow drowning song . The tide flows down , the wave again Is vocal in its wooded walls : My deeper anguish also falls , And I can speak a little then . XX . THE lesser griefs that may be said , 32 22.
... that cannot fall , I brim with sorrow drowning song . The tide flows down , the wave again Is vocal in its wooded walls : My deeper anguish also falls , And I can speak a little then . XX . THE lesser griefs that may be said , 32 22.
Pagina 33
... speak their feeling as it is , And weep the fulness from the mind : ' It will be hard ' they say ' to find Another service such as this . ' My lighter moods are like to these , That out of words a comfort win ; But there are other ...
... speak their feeling as it is , And weep the fulness from the mind : ' It will be hard ' they say ' to find Another service such as this . ' My lighter moods are like to these , That out of words a comfort win ; But there are other ...
Pagina 35
... speak ; • This fellow would make weakness weak , And melt the waxen hearts of men . ' Another answers , ' Let him be , He loves to make parade of pain , That with his piping he may gain The praise that comes to constancy . ' 6 A third ...
... speak ; • This fellow would make weakness weak , And melt the waxen hearts of men . ' Another answers , ' Let him be , He loves to make parade of pain , That with his piping he may gain The praise that comes to constancy . ' 6 A third ...
Pagina 36
... speak an idle thing : Ye never knew the sacred dust : I do but sing because I must , And pipe but as the linnets sing : And unto one her note is gay , For now her little ones have ranged ; And unto one her note is changed , Because her ...
... speak an idle thing : Ye never knew the sacred dust : I do but sing because I must , And pipe but as the linnets sing : And unto one her note is gay , For now her little ones have ranged ; And unto one her note is changed , Because her ...
Pagina 57
... am not worthy but to speak Of thy prevailing mysteries ; For I am but an earthly Muse , And owning but a little art To lull with song an aching heart , And render human love his dues ; But brooding on the dear one dead , And all 57.
... am not worthy but to speak Of thy prevailing mysteries ; For I am but an earthly Muse , And owning but a little art To lull with song an aching heart , And render human love his dues ; But brooding on the dear one dead , And all 57.
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
ambrosial beat Behold bells bliss blood bloom break breast breath brine brows calm chaff circle cloud cold crown'd Danube dark darken'd dead dear Death deep divine doubt dream dust dying earth ev'n evermore eyes fades fair faith faithless fall fall'n fancy fear feel flower gloom grave grief half hands happy happy days happy hour harp hath hear heart heaven hill hope Hope and Fear hour human land leaf leave light linnet lips lives look look'd love thee mind moon morn move Muse night o'er pain peace race regret rest rills Ring rise round seem'd Seraphic shade Shadow shore sing sleep song sorrow soul spirit star sweet tears thine things thou art thought thro touch touch'd trance trust truth unto voice walk'd weep whisper WHITEFRIARS wild wild bells wind wings wisdom 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 76 - 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 destroyed, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...
Pagina 81 - Nature, red in tooth and claw With ravine, shriek'd against his creed— Who loved, who suffer'd countless ills, Who battled for the True, the Just, Be blown about the desert dust, Or seal'd within the iron hills? No more? A monster then, a dream, A discord. Dragons of the prime, That tare each other in their slime, Were mellow music match'd with him. O life as futile, then, as frail! O for thy voice to soothe and bless! What hope of answer, or redress? Behind the veil, behind the veil.
Pagina 178 - 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...
Pagina 88 - Who breaks his birth's invidious bar, And grasps the skirts of happy chance, And breasts the blows of circumstance, And grapples with his evil star...
Pagina 159 - THE time draws near the birth of Christ : The moon is hid ; the night is still ; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist. Four voices of four hamlets round, From far and near, on mead and moor, Swell out and fail, as if a door Were shut between me and the sound : Each voice four changes on the wind, That now dilate, and now decrease, Peace...
Pagina 190 - THERE rolls the deep where grew the tree. O earth, what changes hast thou seen ! There where the long street roars, hath been The stillness of the central sea. The hills are shadows, and they flow From form to form, and nothing stands ; They melt like mist, the solid lands, Like clouds they shape themselves and go. But in my spirit will I dwell, And dream my dream, and hold it true; For tho' my lips may breathe adieu, I cannot think the thing farewell.
Pagina 78 - 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 77 - Behold, we know not anything; I can but trust that good shall fall At last— far off— at last, to all, And every winter change to spring. 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 101 - As sometimes in a dead man's face, To those that watch it more and more, A likeness, hardly seen before, Comes out — to some one of his race; So, dearest, now thy brows are cold, I see thee what thou art, and know Thy likeness to the wise below, Thy kindred with the great of old.