Poetical Works of Matthew ArnoldMacmillan, 1896 - 510 páginas |
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Página 11
... heard your king ! I go , and I return not . But the will Of the great Gods is plain ; and ye must bring Ill deeds , ill passions , zealous to fulfil Their pleasure , to their feet ; and reap their praise , The praise of Gods , rich boon ...
... heard your king ! I go , and I return not . But the will Of the great Gods is plain ; and ye must bring Ill deeds , ill passions , zealous to fulfil Their pleasure , to their feet ; and reap their praise , The praise of Gods , rich boon ...
Página 26
... Heard , in slumber , sounds of warning ; Heard the hoarse boughs labour in the wind . Who are they , O pensive Graces , -For I 26 EARLY POEMS THE NEW SIRENS.
... Heard , in slumber , sounds of warning ; Heard the hoarse boughs labour in the wind . Who are they , O pensive Graces , -For I 26 EARLY POEMS THE NEW SIRENS.
Página 47
... heard ; Felt the slow - rolling word Swell his attentive soul ; Breathed deeply as it died , And drain'd his mighty bowl . HORATIAN ECHO1 ( TO AN AMBITIOUS FRIEND ) OMIT , Omit , my simple friend , Still to enquire how parties tend , Or ...
... heard ; Felt the slow - rolling word Swell his attentive soul ; Breathed deeply as it died , And drain'd his mighty bowl . HORATIAN ECHO1 ( TO AN AMBITIOUS FRIEND ) OMIT , Omit , my simple friend , Still to enquire how parties tend , Or ...
Página 66
... heard him , though the step Was dull'd ; for he slept light , an old man's sleep ; And he rose quickly on one arm , and said : - : - " Who art thou ? for it is not yet clear dawn . Speak ! is there news , or any night alarm ? " But ...
... heard him , though the step Was dull'd ; for he slept light , an old man's sleep ; And he rose quickly on one arm , and said : - : - " Who art thou ? for it is not yet clear dawn . Speak ! is there news , or any night alarm ? " But ...
Página 70
... heard what Peran - Wisa said , A thrill through all the Tartar squadrons ran Of pride and hope for Sohrab , whom they loved . But as a troop of pedlars , from Cabool , Cross underneath the Indian Caucasus , That vast sky - neighbouring ...
... heard what Peran - Wisa said , A thrill through all the Tartar squadrons ran Of pride and hope for Sohrab , whom they loved . But as a troop of pedlars , from Cabool , Cross underneath the Indian Caucasus , That vast sky - neighbouring ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
POETICAL WORKS OF MATTHEW ARNO Matthew 1822-1888 Arnold,Pbl MacMillan & Co Sin vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Poetical Works of Matthew Arnold Aid Worker Specialising in Post-Conflict Reconstruction Matthew Arnold,Matthew Arnold Sin vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Términos y frases comunes
Æpytus Æsir Arcas arms Asgard Balder behold blood blow breast breath bright brow Callicles calm Chorus cold Cresphontes Cypselus dark dead dear death deep Dorian Dorian lords dost doth dream earth Empedocles Epytus eyes fair fame fate father fear feel friends gaze gloom Gods gone grave grey grief hand hath head hear heard heart Heaven Hela's Heracleida Heracles Hermod hills Hoder hour Iseult King Laias light live lonely look'd Merope Messenian morn mother mourn night o'er Obermann Odin once Oxus pain pale pass'd Pausanias plain Polyphontes round Rustum sand sate Seistan shining side sleep Sleipner smile Sohrab soul spake spear spirit stand stars stood stream strife sweet tears Temenus thee thine thou art thou hast thought throne tomb Tristram voice wandering waves weep wilt wind youth Zeus
Pasajes populares
Página 228 - 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.
Página 280 - O life unlike to ours! Who fluctuate idly without term or scope, Of whom each strives, nor knows for what he strives, And each half lives a hundred different lives; Who wait like thee, but not, like thee, in hope. 170 Thou waitest for the spark from heaven! and we, Light half-believers of our casual creeds...
Página 228 - 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.
Página 258 - With aching hands and bleeding feet We dig and heap, lay stone on stone ; We bear the burden and the heat Of the long day, and wish 'twere done. Not till the hours of light return, All we have built do we discern.
Página 292 - He too upon a wintry clime Had fallen — on this iron time Of doubts, disputes, distractions, fears. He found us when the age had bound Our souls in its benumbing round ; He spoke, and loosed our heart in tears. He laid us as we lay at birth On the cool flowery lap of earth...
Página 171 - Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep, Where the winds are all asleep; Where the spent lights quiver and gleam; Where the salt weed sways in the stream; Where the sea-beasts, ranged all round, Feed in the ooze of their pasture-ground...
Página 282 - And we should win thee from thy own fair life, Like us distracted, and like us unblest. Soon, soon thy cheer would die, Thy hopes grow timorous, and unfix'd thy powers, And thy clear aims be cross and shifting made : And then thy glad perennial youth would fade, Fade, and grow old at last, and die like ours.
Página 292 - Sunk, then, is Europe's sagest head. Physician of the iron age, Goethe has done his pilgrimage. He took the suffering human race. He read each wound, each weakness clear ; And struck his finger on the place, And said : Thou ailest here, and here ! He look'd on Europe's dying hour Of fitful dream and feverish power ; His eye plunged down the weltering strife.
Página 218 - Philomela Hark! ah, the Nightingale! The tawny-throated! Hark! from that moonlit cedar what a burst! What triumph! hark — what pain! O Wanderer from a Grecian shore, Still, after many years, in distant lands, Still nourishing in thy bewilder'd brain That wild, unquench'd, deep-sunken, old-world pain — Say, will it never heal...
Página 323 - Wandering between two worlds, one dead, The other powerless to be born, With nowhere yet to rest my head, Like these, on earth I wait forlorn. Their faith, my tears, the world deride— I come to shed them at their side.