Ballads and LyricsT.B. Mosher, 1902 - 31 Seiten |
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Seite 16
... wild of whim , ' Tis time- ' tis time by his ancient watch - to part With books and women and talk and drink and art : And you go humbly after him To a mean suburban lodging : on the way To what or where Not Death , who is old and very ...
... wild of whim , ' Tis time- ' tis time by his ancient watch - to part With books and women and talk and drink and art : And you go humbly after him To a mean suburban lodging : on the way To what or where Not Death , who is old and very ...
Seite 17
... wild breasts of the wilful Day ! ) , Down Picadilly dance and murmur and gleam In genial wave on wave and gyre on gyre ? Why does that nymph unparalleled splash and churn The wealth of her enchanted urn Till , over - billowing all ...
... wild breasts of the wilful Day ! ) , Down Picadilly dance and murmur and gleam In genial wave on wave and gyre on gyre ? Why does that nymph unparalleled splash and churn The wealth of her enchanted urn Till , over - billowing all ...
Seite 28
... wild waste places of the world ! Life - give me life until the end , That at the very top of being , The battle - spirit shouting in my blood , Out of the reddest hell of the fight I may be snatched and flung Into the everlasting lull ...
... wild waste places of the world ! Life - give me life until the end , That at the very top of being , The battle - spirit shouting in my blood , Out of the reddest hell of the fight I may be snatched and flung Into the everlasting lull ...
Seite 30
... wild will , Transfigure the shadows ? Whose , Heart of my heart , Soul of my soul , but yours ? Ghosts - ghosts — the sapphirine air Teems with them even to the gleaming ends Of the wild day - spring ! Ghosts , Everywhere At last ...
... wild will , Transfigure the shadows ? Whose , Heart of my heart , Soul of my soul , but yours ? Ghosts - ghosts — the sapphirine air Teems with them even to the gleaming ends Of the wild day - spring ! Ghosts , Everywhere At last ...
Seite 37
... Wild hands of warning in the face Of some inevitable advance of doom : Or , each to the other bending , beckoning , signing , As in some monstrous market - place , They pass the news , these Gossips of the Prime , In that old speech ...
... Wild hands of warning in the face Of some inevitable advance of doom : Or , each to the other bending , beckoning , signing , As in some monstrous market - place , They pass the news , these Gossips of the Prime , In that old speech ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Achanna æsthetic amet qui nunquam artistic beauty Bibelot Bouillabaisse carved church colour Connla cras amet dark dead death Divine Doris dream earth essay EUGENE LEE-HAMILTON eyes F. W. H. MYERS face feeling Fiona Macleod flowers friends gaze gleam gold golden green grew hair hand hath loved heard heart hope human Hybla Iona J. W. MACKAIL lady Let him love light living London look love to-morrow lovers Macleod's mysterious mystic nature never loved night nunquam amavit nymphs once passed passion past Percy Bysshe Shelley Pervigilium Veneris poems poet poet's poetry powers primordial quique amavit red pike romance rose Rossetti round Scathach seemed shadow Shelley silence sing Socialist song soul spirit spring stood story strange sweet thee things THOMAS PARNELL Thou thought tion trees turned Venus verse voice wild William Morris wind woman words write
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 412 - Bouillabaisse. Ah me ! ho'w quick the days are flitting ! I mind me of a time that's gone, When here I'd sit, as now I'm sitting, In this same place — but not alone. A fair young form was nestled near me, A dear, dear face looked fondly up And sweetly spoke and smiled to cheer me — There's no one now to share my cup.
Seite 437 - THE play is done ; the curtain drops, Slow falling, to the prompter's bell : A moment yet the actor stops, And looks around, to say farewell. It is an irksome word and task ; And when he's laughed and said his say, He shows, as he removes the mask, A face that's anything but gay.
Seite 346 - Under the arch of Life, where love and death, Terror and mystery, guard her shrine, I saw Beauty enthroned ; and though her gaze struck awe, I drew it in as simply as my breath. Hers are the eyes which, over and beneath, The sky and sea bend on thee, — which can draw, By sea or sky or woman, to one law, The allotted bondman of her palm and wreath. This is that Lady Beauty, in whose praise Thy voice and hand shake still, — long known to thee...
Seite 420 - CHRISTMAS is here ; Winds whistle shrill, Icy and chill, Little care we ; Little we fear Weather without, Sheltered about The Mahogany Tree. Once on the boughs Birds of rare plume Sang, in its bloom ; Night-birds are we ; Here we carouse, Singing, like them, Perched round the stem Of the jolly old tree.
Seite 437 - I'd say, the griefs, the joys, Just hinted in this mimic page, The triumphs and defeats of boys, Are but repeated in our age. I'd say, your woes were not less keen. Your hopes more vain than those of men; Your pangs or pleasures of fifteen At forty-five played o'er again. I'd say, we suffer and we strive. Not less nor more as men than boys; With grizzled beards at forty-five, As erst at twelve in corduroys.
Seite 358 - O born with me somewhere that men forget, And though in years of sight and sound unmet, Known for my soul's birth-partner well enough!
Seite 411 - I'd scarce a beard upon my face, And now a grizzled, grim old fogy, I sit and wait for Bouillabaisse. Where are you, old companions trusty Of early days here met to dine ? Come, waiter ! quick, a flagon crusty — I'll pledge them in the good old wine. The kind old voices and old faces My memory can quick retrace; Around the board they take their places, And share the wine and Bouillabaisse.
Seite 362 - Love's own breast, — Where round the secret of all spheres All angels lay their wings to rest, — How shall my soul stand rapt and awed, When, by the new birth borne abroad Throughout the music of the suns, It enters in her soul at once And knows the silence there for God ! Here with her face doth memory sit Meanwhile, and wait the day's decline, Till other eyes shall look from it, Eyes of the spirit's Palestine, Even than the old gaze tenderer : While hopes and aims long lost with her Stand round...
Seite 409 - s an inn, not rich and splendid, But still in comfortable case ; The which in youth I oft attended, To eat a bowl of Bouillabaisse.
Seite 410 - It is the lot of saint and sinner, So honest TERRE'S run his race." "What will Monsieur require for dinner ? " "Say, do you still cook Bouillabaisse ? " " Oh, oui, Monsieur," 's the waiter's answer; " Quel vin Monsieur desire-t-il ? " "Tell me a good one."— "That I * can, Sir : The Chambertin with yellow seal.