The Poems of Tennyson: 1830-1865Cassell, 1907 - 596 páginas |
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Página 8
... · 109 ENGLISH IDYLLS AND OTHER POEMS 63. To the Queen III 64 , Morte d'Arthur • 112 • 65. The Gardener's Daughter , or , The Pictures 66. Dora • 118 • 124 67. Audley Court · · 128 68. Walking to the Mail 69. Edwin Morris ; or 8 CONTENTS.
... · 109 ENGLISH IDYLLS AND OTHER POEMS 63. To the Queen III 64 , Morte d'Arthur • 112 • 65. The Gardener's Daughter , or , The Pictures 66. Dora • 118 • 124 67. Audley Court · · 128 68. Walking to the Mail 69. Edwin Morris ; or 8 CONTENTS.
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... Edwin Morris ; or , The Lake 70. St. Simeon Stylites 71. The Talking Oak 72. Love and Duty 73. The Golden Year . 74. Ulysses 75. Locksley Hall 76. Godiva · • • 77. The Two Voices 78. The Day Dream Prologue · • • The Sleeping Palace ...
... Edwin Morris ; or , The Lake 70. St. Simeon Stylites 71. The Talking Oak 72. Love and Duty 73. The Golden Year . 74. Ulysses 75. Locksley Hall 76. Godiva · • • 77. The Two Voices 78. The Day Dream Prologue · • • The Sleeping Palace ...
Página 69
... as in a crumbling tomb , girt round With blackness as a solid wall , Far off she seem'd to hear the dully sound Of human footsteps fall . As in strange lands a traveller walking slow , In THE PALACE OF ART 69 Edwin Morris; or, The Lake.
... as in a crumbling tomb , girt round With blackness as a solid wall , Far off she seem'd to hear the dully sound Of human footsteps fall . As in strange lands a traveller walking slow , In THE PALACE OF ART 69 Edwin Morris; or, The Lake.
Página 132
... EDWIN MORRIS ; OR , THE LAKE O ME , my pleasant rambles by the lake , My sweet , wild , fresh three quarters of a year , My one Oasis in the dust and drouth Of city life ! I was a sketcher then : See here , my doing : curves of mountain ...
... EDWIN MORRIS ; OR , THE LAKE O ME , my pleasant rambles by the lake , My sweet , wild , fresh three quarters of a year , My one Oasis in the dust and drouth Of city life ! I was a sketcher then : See here , my doing : curves of mountain ...
Página 133
... Edwin Morris and with Edward Bull The curate ; he was fatter than his cure . But Edwin Morris , he that knew the names , Long learned names of agaric , moss and fern , Who forged a thousand theories of the rocks , Who taught me how to ...
... Edwin Morris and with Edward Bull The curate ; he was fatter than his cure . But Edwin Morris , he that knew the names , Long learned names of agaric , moss and fern , Who forged a thousand theories of the rocks , Who taught me how to ...
Contenido
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Términos y frases comunes
answer'd arms Arthur beneath blood blow breath brows Caerleon call'd Camelot cheek child cried dark dead dear death deep dipt Dora dream earth Edwin Morris Enid Enoch evermore Excalibur eyes face fair Fair lord father fear flower Geraint golden Guinevere hall hand happy hath head hear heard heart Heaven Hesper hills hour jousts King King Arthur kiss kiss'd knew Lady Lady of Shalott Lancelot land Lavaine light Limours lips live Locksley Hall look look'd lord maid maiden moon morn mother move never night noble o'er once passion Prince Queen rode roll'd rose round seem'd shadow shame silent sing Sir Bedivere Sir Lancelot sleep smile song soul spake speak spoke star stept stood summer sweet tears thee thine things thou thought thro turn'd unto vext voice weep wild wind words
Pasajes populares
Página 296 - Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand ; Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be.
Página 343 - Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean. Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. " Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Página 234 - We have but faith: we cannot know; For knowledge is of things we see; And yet we trust it comes from thee, A beam in darkness : let it grow. Let knowledge grow from more to more, But more of reverence in us dwell; That mind and soul, according well, May make one music as before, But vaster.
Página 342 - The splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light shakes across the lakes And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear ! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going ! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing ! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying : Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Página 232 - " Charge for the guns ! " he said ; Into the valley of death Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade!
Página 152 - Myself not least, but honor'd of them all; And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move.
Página 113 - And if indeed I cast the brand away, Surely a precious thing, one worthy note, Should thus be lost for ever from the earth, Which might have pleased the eyes of many men. What good should follow this, if this were done ? What harm, undone ? Deep harm to disobey, Seeing obedience is the bond of rule. Were it well to obey then, if a king demand An act unprofitable, against himself ? The King is sick, and knows not what he does.
Página 343 - Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering square; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more. Dear as remember'd kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; O Death in Life, the days that are no more!
Página 215 - I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever.
Página 112 - I am so deeply smitten thro' the helm That without help I cannot last till morn. Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur, Which was my pride : for thou rememberest how In those old days, one summer noon, an arm Rose up from out the bosom of the lake, Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful, Holding the sword — and how I...