Wessex Poems and Other VersesMacmillan, 1898 - 228 páginas |
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Términos y frases comunes
Amabel ath'art Barbree bird Blücher bombs Boney he'll pounce bore bough breath canker Casterbridge child cicatrize clasp cried Cromlech cry of love daughter dear dead death dream dwells eyes fair feel fire French GEORGE DU MAURIER gleam gloom gone gracious wife Grouchy heart hour husband iron fire Ivel Jenny jined kissed knew laugh lewth Lindenau Little Boney living London town lone look Lord Love's lynchet maid maiden maypole morning mused naibor never nigh night numbers on'y passed paused pray prize proud career Rollicum-rorum rose SAN SEBASTIAN Save scarce seemed Sergeant shape sight Simple shepherds smile sought soul spectres rife stood storm sweet sylph thee therence things thou thought Three-quarter Crushed Levant to-day tol-lol-lay tol-lol-lorum tranter Trumpet-Major Twas twere unknowing unware Valencieën walls waste watches watched Wavre Wessex words wownds Yark
Pasajes populares
Página 17 - God, And a few leaves lay on the starving sod; — They had fallen from an ash, and were gray.
Página 7 - IF but some vengeful god would call to me From up the sky, and laugh: "Thou suffering thing, Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy, That thy love's loss is my hate's profiting!" Then would I bear it, clench myself, and die, Steeled by the sense of ire unmerited; Half-eased in that a Powerfuller than I Had willed and meted me the tears I shed. But not so. How arrives it joy lies slain, And why unblooms the best hope ever sown? — Crass Casualty obstructs the sun and rain, And dicing Time for...
Página 209 - I LOOK INTO MY GLASS" I look into my glass, And view my wasting skin, And say, "Would God it came to pass My heart had shrunk as thin!" For then, I, undistrest By hearts grown cold to me, Could lonely wait my endless rest With equanimity. But Time, to make me grieve; Part steals, lets part abide; And shakes this fragile frame at eve With throbbings of noontide.
Página 55 - It was just at the instant when the latter, who had thrown his mind into his song with such a will that he scarcely heeded the interruption, silenced all whispers and inquiries by bursting into his third...
Página 171 - Is a strange destiny. Why thus my soul should be consigned To infelicity, Why always I must feel as blind To sights my brethren see, Why joys they've found I cannot find, Abides a mystery.
Página 148 - FRIENDS BEYOND William Dewy, Tranter Reuben, Farmer Ledlow late at plough, Robert's kin, and John's, and Ned's, And the Squire, and Lady Susan, lie in Mellstock churchyard now! "Gone," I call them, gone for good, that group of local hearts and heads; Yet at mothy curfew-tide, And at midnight when the noon-heat breathes it back from walls and leads, They've a way of whispering to me — fellow-wight who yet abide In the muted, measured note...
Página 21 - THE two were silent in a sunless church, Whose mildewed walls, uneven paving-stones, And wasted carvings passed antique research ; And nothing broke the clock's dull monotones. Leaning against a wormy poppy-head, So wan and worn that he could scarcely stand, — For he was soon to die, — he softly said, " Tell me you love me ! " — holding long her hand. She would have given a world to breathe
Página 166 - Has some Vast Imbecility, Mighty to build and blend, But impotent to tend, Framed us in jest, and left us now to hazardry ? " Or come we of an Automaton Unconscious of our pains ? . . . Or are we live remains Of Godhead dying downwards, brain and eye now gone ? ."•Or is it that some high Plan betides, As yet not understood, Of Evil stormed by Good, We the Forlorn Hope over which Achievement strides ? " NATURES QUESTIONING 179 Thus things around.
Página 165 - WHEN I look forth at dawning, pool, Field, flock, and lonely tree, All seem to gaze at me Like chastened children sitting silent in a school ; Their faces dulled, constrained, and worn, As though the master's ways Through the long teaching days Had cowed them till their early zest was overborne. Upon them stirs in lippings mere (As if once clear in call, But now scarce breathed at all) — " We wonder, ever wonder, why we find us here...
Página 45 - I never hear the zummer hums O' bees ; and don' know when the cuckoo comes ; But night and day I hear the bombs We threw at Valencieen. . . . As for the Duke o...