A Victorian Anthology, 1837-1895: Selections Illustrating the Editor's Critical Review of British Poetry in the Reign of VictoriaEdmund Clarence Stedman Houghton Mifflin, 1895 - 744 Seiten |
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Seite xxii
... PYGMALION 146 122 MY MOTHER 146 • 123 THE NORNS WATERING YGGDRASILL TO THE DEAD 146 Bartholomew Simmons • 147 HERO - WORSHIP 147 STANZAS TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS HOOD 123 William James Linton EVICTION Harriet Martineau PATIENCE ON , ON ...
... PYGMALION 146 122 MY MOTHER 146 • 123 THE NORNS WATERING YGGDRASILL TO THE DEAD 146 Bartholomew Simmons • 147 HERO - WORSHIP 147 STANZAS TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS HOOD 123 William James Linton EVICTION Harriet Martineau PATIENCE ON , ON ...
Seite xxxi
... PYGMALION AND GALATEA " . 457 William Schwenck Gilbert News to the King Day is Dead " Tween Earth and Sky • Tell Me not of Morrows , Sweet · 462 462 463 • 463 THE DEATHS OF MYRON AND KLY- DONE ( from " In a Day " ) • ⚫ 463 TO THE SAME ...
... PYGMALION AND GALATEA " . 457 William Schwenck Gilbert News to the King Day is Dead " Tween Earth and Sky • Tell Me not of Morrows , Sweet · 462 462 463 • 463 THE DEATHS OF MYRON AND KLY- DONE ( from " In a Day " ) • ⚫ 463 TO THE SAME ...
Seite 146
... PYGMALION MISTRESS of gods and men ! I have been thine From boy to man , and many a myrtle rod Have I made grow upon thy sacred sod , Nor ever have I pass'd thy white shafts nine Without some votive offering for the shrine , Carv'd ...
... PYGMALION MISTRESS of gods and men ! I have been thine From boy to man , and many a myrtle rod Have I made grow upon thy sacred sod , Nor ever have I pass'd thy white shafts nine Without some votive offering for the shrine , Carv'd ...
Seite 458
... Pygmalion ! Pyg . [ Kneels to him . I have no words to tell thee of my joy , O woman - perfect in thy loveliness ! Gal . What is that word ? Am I a wo- Pyg . man ? Yes . Gal . Art thou a woman ? Pyg . Gal . What is a man ? Pyg . No , I ...
... Pygmalion ! Pyg . [ Kneels to him . I have no words to tell thee of my joy , O woman - perfect in thy loveliness ! Gal . What is that word ? Am I a wo- Pyg . man ? Yes . Gal . Art thou a woman ? Pyg . Gal . What is a man ? Pyg . No , I ...
Seite 517
... Pygmalion Had sought to find himself a wife In stones that saw Deucalion . Too soon the light began to wane ; It lingered soft and tender , And the snow - giants sank again Into their cold dead splendor . And , as I watched the last ...
... Pygmalion Had sought to find himself a wife In stones that saw Deucalion . Too soon the light began to wane ; It lingered soft and tender , And the snow - giants sank again Into their cold dead splendor . And , as I watched the last ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
art thou beauty beneath bird blow Bouillabaisse breast breath bright brow cheek cloud cold Danny Deever dark Dark Rosaleen dead dear death deep doth dream earth evermore eyes face fair fear feet flowers Glenkindie glory gold golden grave gray green hair hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hour Judas Iscariot king kiss Lamb of God land leaves light lips live look look'd Lord lov'd Love's moon morn neath never night o'er Omar Khayyám pale Palie Poems poet Pygmalion Rapparees rest rose round seem'd shadow shine shore sigh silent sing sleep smile snow soft song sorrow soul stars strong summer sweet tears thee Theocritus thine things thou art thought tree Trinity College turn'd vex'd voice Vrom waves weary weep wild wind wings
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 174 - I fear no foe with thee at hand to bless; ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness. Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory? I triumph still, if thou abide with me.
Seite 226 - But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world.
Seite 197 - As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains : but every hour is saved From that eternal silence, something more, A bringer of new things ; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself, And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge, like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought. This is my son, mine own Telemachus, To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle— Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil...
Seite 155 - O MAY I JOIN THE CHOIR INVISIBLE" Longum illud tempus, quum non era, magis me movet, quam hoc exiguum. — Cicero, Ad Att., xii: 18. O may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence: live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge man's search To vaster issues.
Seite 226 - THE sea is calm to-night. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits ; — on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone ; the cliffs of England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Seite 197 - Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows ; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down : It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,1 And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides ; and tho...
Seite 526 - REQUIEM UNDER the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be ; Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
Seite 199 - The splendor 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.
Seite 212 - SUNSET and evening star, And one clear call for me. And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark: And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho...
Seite 226 - Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night.