The Princess

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Macmillan Company, 1908 - Всего страниц: 186
 

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Стр. 67 - 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.
Стр. 50 - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon ; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon ; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon: Sleep, my little one, sleep,...
Стр. 137 - ... torrent dance thee down To find him in the valley ; let the wild Lean-headed Eagles yelp alone, and leave The monstrous ledges there to slope, and spill Their thousand wreaths of dangling water-smoke, That like a broken purpose waste in air : So waste not thou ; but come ; for all the vales Await thee ; azure pillars of the hearth Arise to thee ; the children call, and I Thy shepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice,- but every sound is sweet ; Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro'...
Стр. 140 - ... be more of woman, she of man ; He gain in sweetness and in moral height, Nor lose the wrestling thews that throw the world ; She mental breadth, nor fail in childward care...
Стр. 142 - Yet was there one thro' whom I loved her, one Not learned, save in gracious household ways, Not perfect, nay, but full of tender wants, No Angel, but a dearer being, all dipt In Angel instincts, breathing Paradise...
Стр. 140 - For woman is not undevelopt man, But diverse: could we make her as the man, Sweet love were slain: his dearest bond is this, Not like to like, but like in difference.
Стр. 65 - 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, dyin£, 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.
Стр. 35 - This world was once a fluid haze of light, Till toward the centre set the starry tides, And eddied into suns, that wheeling cast The planets...
Стр. 136 - Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white ; Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk ; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font The fire-fly wakens ; waken thou with me. ' Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost, And like a ghost she glimmers on to me. ' Now lies the Earth nil Danae to the stars, And all thy heart lies open unto me.
Стр. 113 - Took the face-cloth from the face Yet she neither moved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child upon her knee — Like summer tempest came her tears" Sweet my child, I live for thee.

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