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arms beat beauty blow breast breath brother cheek child close comes Cyril dark dead dear death deep dream dying ears earth eyes face fair fall fancy father Favorite Poems fear feet fell fire flying follow gate girl give golden grow half Hall hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven hold hour keep kind king kiss knew Lady land light lips live look maid maiden Maud mind morning mother moved nature never night once pass passion past peace Prince Princess Psyche rest ring rose round seem'd shadow shame side smile song sound speak spoke stood strange summer sweet talk tell thee things thou thought thro till touch true turn voice wild wind woman women wood
Seite 69 - She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat, Were it earth in an earthy bed; My dust would hear her and beat, Had I lain for a century dead; Would start and tremble under her feet, And blossom in purple and red.
Seite 21 - Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forward let us range, Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change. Thro...
Seite 69 - 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.
Seite 18 - I, to herd with narrow foreheads, vacant of our glorious gains, Like a beast with lower pleasures, like a beast with lower pains! Mated with a squalid savage— what to me were sun or clime? I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time...
Seite 13 - They to whom my foolish passion were a target for their scorn : Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a mouldered string ? I am shamed through all my nature to have loved so slight a thing.
Seite 69 - 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. " 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.
Seite 147 - Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang) In height and cold, the splendour of the hills ? But cease to move so near the Heavens, and cease To glide a sunbeam by the blasted Pine, To sit a star upon the sparkling spire ; And come, for Love is of the valley, come, For Love is of the valley, come thou down And find him...
Seite 78 - A shadow flits before me, Not thou, but like to thee: Ah Christ, that it were possible For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us, What and where they be.
Seite 22 - Ancient founts of inspiration well thro' all my fancy yet. Howsoever these things be, a long farewell to Locksley Hall! Now for me the woods may wither, now for me the roof-tree fall. Comes a vapor from the margin, blackening over heath and holt, Cramming all the blast before it, in its breast a thunderbolt. Let it fall on Locksley Hall, with rain or hail, or fire or snow; For the mighty wind arises, roaring seaward, and I go.