Poems. Prose - tales and literary papers

Couverture
Ellis and Scrutton, 1886 - 521 pages
 

Table des matières

Expressions et termes fréquents

Fréquemment cités

Page 232 - The sun was gone now ; the curled moon Was like a little feather Fluttering far down the gulf ; and now She spoke through the still weather. Her voice was like the voice the stars Had when they sang together.
Page 85 - Consider the lilies of the field; they toil not, neither do they spin: yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
Page 233 - I we two, we two, thou say'st ! Yea, one wast thou with me That once of old. But shall God lift To endless unity The soul whose likeness with thy soul Was but its love for thee ?)
Page 316 - Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day.
Page 176 - LOVESIGHT. WHEN do I see thee most, beloved one ? When in the light the spirits of mine eyes Before thy face, their altar, solemnize The worship of that Love through thee made known? Or when in the dusk hours, (we two alone,) Close-kissed and eloquent of still replies Thy twilight-hidden glimmering visage...
Page 247 - I shall not return, even to the land of darkness and the shadow of death; a land of darkness, as darkness itself, and of the shadow of death, without any order and where the light is as darkness.
Page 233 - And bathe there in God's sight. 'We two will stand beside that shrine, Occult, withheld, untrod. Whose lamps are stirred continually With prayer sent up to God; And see our old prayers, granted, melt Each like a little cloud. 'We two will lie i' the shadow of That living mystic tree.
Page 231 - It lies in heaven, across the flood Of ether, as a bridge. Beneath, the tides of day and night With flame and darkness ridge The void, as low as where this earth Spins like a fretful midge.
Page 343 - WATER, for anguish of the solstice : — nay, But dip the vessel slowly, — nay, but lean And hark how at its verge the wave sighs in Reluctant. Hush ! Beyond all depth away The heat lies silent at the brink of day : Now the hand trails upon the viol-string That sobs, and the brown faces cease to sing, Sad with the whole of pleasure.
Page 479 - ... About thy face ; her sweet hands round thy head In gracious fostering union garlanded ; Her tremulous smiles ; her glances' sweet recall Of love ; her murmuring sighs memorial ; Her mouth's culled sweetness by thy kisses shed On cheeks and neck and eyelids, and so led Back to her mouth which answers there for all : — What sweeter than these things, except the thing In lacking which all these would lose their sweet : — The confident heart's still fervour : the swift beat And soft subsidence...

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