Sonnets and PoemsJ. Masefield, 1916 - 52 Seiten |
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
April atom beautiful and wise beauty's birds blind blood bones brain bread breath carouse clay comes comrade crumb darkness dawn dead dear Death lies delight downland dream Drink dust dusty earthly thing Eternal eyes face to face fiery hair fire flesh flies flowers flying ghost gleam Glimpsed glory glow gone grace grass grave happy Haunted heap heart heaven nor earth hours pass husk JOHN MASEFIELD kings knew knocked Less noble lies in wait living lonely man's marvel men's souls midnight million cells mind moon moorland moved murder myriad N IGHT never night owls place's planets quick quickened Roman rose rots sand seed shadow sing sleep SONNETS spark Sphinx spirit spring stamped star stirs strange summer tempt thought thy light toil tread trembling unearthly unguessed unseen wandering waters wind goes window withers woman's YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 17 - If I could get within this changing I, This ever altering thing which yet persists, Keeping the features it is reckoned by, While each component atom breaks or twists, If, wandering past strange groups of shifting forms, Cells at their hidden marvels hard at work, Pale from much toil, or red from sudden storms, I might attain to where the Rulers lurk. If, pressing past the guards in those grey gates, The brain's most folded intertwisted shell, I might attain to that which alters fates, The King,...
Seite 8 - If I could come again to that dear place Where once I came, where Beauty lived and moved, Where, by the sea, I saw her face to face, That soul alive by which the world has loved; If, as I stood at gaze among the leaves, She would appear again, as once before, While the red herdsman gathered up his sheaves And brimming waters trembled up the shore; If, as I gazed, her Beauty that was dumb, In that old time, before I learned to speak, Would lean to me and revelation come, Words to the lips and color...
Seite 30 - Wherever beauty has been quick in clay Some effluence of it lives, a spirit dwells, Beauty that death can never take away, Mixed with the air that shakes the flower bells ; So that by waters where the apples fall, Or in lone glens, or valleys full of flowers, Or in the streets where bloody tidings call, The haunting waits the mood that makes it ours. Then at a turn, a word, an act, a thought, Such difference comes, the spirit apprehends That place's glory, for where beauty fought Under the veil the...
Seite 19 - Ah, we are neither heaven nor earth, but men; Something that uses and despises both, That takes its earth's contentment in the pen, Then sees the world's injustice and is wroth, And flinging off youth's happy promise, flies Up to some breach, despising earthly things, And, in contempt of hell and heaven, dies Rather than bear some yoke of priests or kings. Our joys are not of heaven nor earth, but man's, A woman's beauty or a child's delight, The trembling blood when the discoverer scans The sought-for...
Seite 20 - Roses are beauty, but I never see Those blood drops from the burning heart of June Glowing like thought upon the living tree, Without a pity that they die so soon, Die into petals, like those roses old, Those women, who were summer in men's hearts Before the smile upon the Sphinx was cold, Or sand had hid the Syrian and his arts. 0 myriad dust of beauty that lies thick Under our feet that not a single...
Seite 41 - ... moth-like death in the owl. Beauty was here on this beetle-droning downland; The thought of a Caesar in the purple came From the palace by the Tiber in the Roman townland To this wind-swept hill with no name. Lonely Beauty came here and was here in sadness, Brave as a thought on the frontier of the mind, In the camp of the wild upon the march of madness, The bright-eyed Queen of the Blind. Now where Beauty was are the wind-withered gorses, Moaning like old men in the hill-wind's blast; The flying...
Seite 13 - ... three several times in seventy years; It cannot lift the silly hand again, Nor speak, nor sing, it neither sees nor hears. And muffled mourners put it in the ground And then go home, and in the earth it lies, Too dark for vision and too deep for sound, The million cells that made a good man wise. Yet for a few short years an influence stirs A sense or wraith or essence of him dead, Which makes insensate things its ministers To those beloved, his spirit's daily bread; Then that, too, fades; in...
Seite 29 - There is no God ; but death, the clasping sea, In which we move like fish, deep over deep, Made of men's souls that bodies have set free, Floods to a Justice though it seems asleep. There is no God ; but still, behind the veil, The hurt thing works, out of its agony.
Seite 40 - And the pine woods roar like the surf. Here the Roman lived on the wind-barren lonely, Dark now and haunted by the moorland fowl; None comes here now but the peewit only, And moth-like death in the owl. Beauty was here, on this beetle-droning downland; The thought of a Caesar in the purple came From the palace by the Tiber in the Roman townland To this wind-swept hill with no name. Lonely Beauty came here and was here in sadness, Brave as a thought on the frontier of the mind, In the camp of the...
Seite 23 - O little self, within whose smallness lies All that man was, and is, and will become, Atom unseen that comprehends the skies And tells the tracks by which the planets roam. That, without moving, knows the joys of wings, The tiger's strength, the eagle's secrecy, And in the hovel can consort with kings, Or clothe a god with his own mystery. O with what darkness do we cloak thy light, What dusty folly gather thee for food, Thou who alone art knowledge and delight, The heavenly bread, the beautiful,...