The Poems of William BlakeLawrence & Bullen, 1893 - 251 páginas |
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Página 34
... my youth mastered ? CHANDOS . Considerate age , my Lord , views motives , And not acts ; when neither warbling voice Nor trilling pipe is heard , nor pleasure sits • With trembling age , the voice of Conscience then 34 BLAKE'S POEMS .
... my youth mastered ? CHANDOS . Considerate age , my Lord , views motives , And not acts ; when neither warbling voice Nor trilling pipe is heard , nor pleasure sits • With trembling age , the voice of Conscience then 34 BLAKE'S POEMS .
Página 35
William Blake William Butler Yeats. • With trembling age , the voice of Conscience then , Sweeter than music in a summer's eve , Shall warble round the snowy head , and keep Sweet symphony to feathered angels , sitting As guardians round ...
William Blake William Butler Yeats. • With trembling age , the voice of Conscience then , Sweeter than music in a summer's eve , Shall warble round the snowy head , and keep Sweet symphony to feathered angels , sitting As guardians round ...
Página 67
... trembling cry a song ? Can it be a song of joy ? And so many children poor ? It is a land of poverty ! And their sun does never shine , And their fields are bleak and bare , And their ways are filled with thorns , It is eternal winter ...
... trembling cry a song ? Can it be a song of joy ? And so many children poor ? It is a land of poverty ! And their sun does never shine , And their fields are bleak and bare , And their ways are filled with thorns , It is eternal winter ...
Página 70
... trembling woman pressed With feet of weary woe ; She could no further go . In his arms he bore Her , armed with sorrow sore ; Till before their way A couching lion - lay . Turning back was vain : Soon his heavy mane Bore them to the ...
... trembling woman pressed With feet of weary woe ; She could no further go . In his arms he bore Her , armed with sorrow sore ; Till before their way A couching lion - lay . Turning back was vain : Soon his heavy mane Bore them to the ...
Página 80
... trembling zeal he seized his hair , He led him by his little coat , And all admired the priestly care . And standing on the altar high , ' Lo , what a fiend is here ! ' said he : ' One who sets reason up for judge Of our most holy ...
... trembling zeal he seized his hair , He led him by his little coat , And all admired the priestly care . And standing on the altar high , ' Lo , what a fiend is here ! ' said he : ' One who sets reason up for judge Of our most holy ...
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Términos y frases comunes
angel AUDLEY beams beauty beneath bosom bright burning Caiaphas called Chandos Chaucer child cloud curse dark death delight Devil divine dost doth earth echoing green engraving eternal eyes father fear feet Felpham fire flame flower Fuzon garden gold golden green hand happy hear heard heart heaven Hell holy human imagination Jacob Boehme Jerusalem Jesus KING labour lamb Last Judgment laugh light lion Lord Mnetha morning mortal mother Myratana mystical never night o'er Oothoon pity poem Prince Prophetic Books Rossetti round shine silent sing Sir Thomas Dagworth sleep smile Songs of Experience Songs of Innocence sorrow soul spirit Swedenborg sweet symbolic tears tell thee Theotormon thine things Thomas Dagworth thou art thought tigers Tiriel tree trembling Urizen vales vision voice walk wandered weep wild William Blake wind window shutters wings wrath youth Zazel
Pasajes populares
Página 74 - Tiger! Tiger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
Página 207 - And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God On England's pleasant pastures seen? And did the Countenance Divine Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here Among these dark Satanic Mills? Bring me my Bow of burning gold : Bring me my Arrows of desire : Bring me my Spear : O clouds unfold ! Bring me my Chariot of fire. I will not cease from Mental Fight, Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand Till we have built Jerusalem...
Página 59 - WHEN the voices of children are heard on the green, And laughing is heard on the hill, My heart is at rest within my breast, And everything else is still. 'Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down, And the dews of night arise ; Come, come, leave off play, and let us away, Till the morning appears in the skies.
Página 50 - And we are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love; And these black bodies and this sunburnt face Are but a cloud and like a shady grove.
Página 7 - My smiles and languished air, By love are driven away; And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave: Such end true lovers have. His face is fair as heaven When springing buds unfold; Oh, why to him was't given, Whose heart is wintry cold? His breast is love's all-worshipped tomb, Where all love's pilgrims come.
Página 168 - Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained; and the restrainer or Reason usurps its place & governs the unwilling. And being restrain'd, it by degrees becomes passive, till it is only the shadow of desire.
Página 49 - Little lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee, Gave thee life and bade thee feed By the stream and o'er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight, Softest clothing, woolly, bright; Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice? Little lamb, who made thee? Little lamb, I'll tell thee; Little lamb, I'll tell thee. He is called...
Página 3 - Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth, And let thy holy feet visit our clime. Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee. O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put Thy golden crown upon her languish'd head, Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee. To Summer O thou who passest thro' our valleys in Thy strength, curb...
Página 96 - Shudders hell through all its regions. A dog starved at his master's gate Predicts the ruin of the state. A horse misused upon the road Calls to Heaven for human blood. Each outcry of the hunted hare A fibre from the brain does tear.
Página 6 - Now whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Thy bright torch of love — thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed! Smile on our loves; and while thou drawest the Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes In timely sleep. Let thy West Wind sleep on The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes And wash the dusk with silver.