The World's Best Poetry, Том 1

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J.D. Morris, 1904
 

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Стр. 182 - The time has come,' the Walrus said, ' To talk of many things: Of shoes - and ships - and sealing wax Of cabbages - and kings And why the sea is boiling hot And whether pigs have wings.
Стр. 382 - For I can raise no money by vile means: By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection...
Стр. 96 - Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me : — ' Pipe a song about a lamb : ' So I piped with merry cheer. ' Piper, pipe that song again : ' So I piped ; he wept to hear.
Стр. 85 - Knowledge never learned of schools, Of the wild bee's morning chase, Of the wild flower's time and place, Flight of fowl and habitude Of the tenants of the wood; How the tortoise bears his shell, How the woodchuck digs his cell, And the ground-mole sinks his well; How the robin feeds her young, How the oriole's nest is hung...
Стр. 356 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate...
Стр. 75 - And often after sunset, sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there. " The first that died was little Jane ; In bed she moaning lay.
Стр. 74 - Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be ? " " How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they? I pray you tell.
Стр. 73 - Thus Nature spake — the work was done; — How soon my Lucy's race was run! She died, and left to me This heath, this calm and quiet scene; The memory of what has been, And never more will be.
Стр. 317 - O God ! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain ; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run, — How many make the hour full complete ; How many hours bring about the day ; How many days will finish up the year ; How many years a mortal man may live.
Стр. 267 - Read from some humbler poet. Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start...

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