Poems of sorrow, death and immortalityHolt, 1912 |
Från bokens innehåll
Resultat 1-5 av 50
Sida 3152
... Turning to poison while the bee - mouth sips : Ay , in the very temple of Delight Veiled Melancholy has her sovereign shrine , Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine : His soul ...
... Turning to poison while the bee - mouth sips : Ay , in the very temple of Delight Veiled Melancholy has her sovereign shrine , Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine : His soul ...
Sida 3163
... turn our hearts , as on we rove , To those we've left behind us ! When , round the bowl , of vanished years We talk with joyous seeming , With smiles , that might as well be tears , So faint , so sad their beaming ; While memory brings ...
... turn our hearts , as on we rove , To those we've left behind us ! When , round the bowl , of vanished years We talk with joyous seeming , With smiles , that might as well be tears , So faint , so sad their beaming ; While memory brings ...
Sida 3169
... turns in every copse : Each tree heart - deep the wrangling rout receives , — Save for the whirr within , You could not tell the starlings from the leaves ; Then one great puff of wings , and the swarm heaves Away with all its din ...
... turns in every copse : Each tree heart - deep the wrangling rout receives , — Save for the whirr within , You could not tell the starlings from the leaves ; Then one great puff of wings , and the swarm heaves Away with all its din ...
Sida 3211
... turn , The path to my foot is sure , and the sods to my bosom yearn . What's fame , when the truth is told ? A shout to a distant hill , The crags may echo a while , but fainter , and fainter still ; Yet forever the wind blows wide the ...
... turn , The path to my foot is sure , and the sods to my bosom yearn . What's fame , when the truth is told ? A shout to a distant hill , The crags may echo a while , but fainter , and fainter still ; Yet forever the wind blows wide the ...
Sida 3228
... turn up the sod , And spread the furrow for the seed we sow ; This is the field and Acre of our God , This is the place where human harvests grow . Henry Wadsworth Longfellow [ 1807-1882 ] THE CITY OF THE DEAD THEY do neither plight nor ...
... turn up the sod , And spread the furrow for the seed we sow ; This is the field and Acre of our God , This is the place where human harvests grow . Henry Wadsworth Longfellow [ 1807-1882 ] THE CITY OF THE DEAD THEY do neither plight nor ...
Innehåll
3150 | |
3157 | |
3164 | |
3171 | |
3179 | |
3181 | |
3188 | |
3195 | |
3418 | |
3419 | |
3432 | |
3444 | |
3452 | |
3459 | |
3466 | |
3473 | |
3201 | |
3210 | |
3226 | |
3235 | |
3240 | |
3246 | |
3257 | |
3263 | |
3269 | |
3278 | |
3282 | |
3290 | |
3296 | |
3302 | |
3310 | |
3317 | |
3323 | |
3330 | |
3336 | |
3342 | |
3344 | |
3351 | |
3365 | |
3374 | |
3391 | |
3405 | |
3411 | |
3481 | |
3487 | |
3497 | |
3503 | |
3509 | |
3516 | |
3529 | |
3537 | |
3546 | |
3552 | |
3559 | |
3560 | |
3566 | |
3572 | |
3578 | |
3584 | |
3590 | |
3597 | |
3624 | |
3640 | |
3655 | |
3683 | |
3706 | |
3711 | |
3717 | |
3737 | |
Vanliga ord och fraser
a-thynkynge angel April April 11 beauty bien biographical data available bird blest bliss Born at London breath bright Carcassonne Christ Christina Georgina Rossetti cloud cross crown dark dead dear death Deutschen Vaterland died at London Dies Iræ doth dream earth England English writer eternal eyes fair fear feet flowers Glorious glory God's grave grief hand hath hear heart heaven HENRY Henry Wadsworth Longfellow hills holy Horatius Bonar hour Ist's Jesus JOHN Juxta crucem Lamb of God land light living Lord morning mortal mourn Nearer night November 29 o'er October pain peace Pierre-Jean de Béranger poem prayer present address rest Robert Herrick rose Scotland shadows shine sigh silent sing skies sleep smile Song sorrow soul spirit stars sweet tears thee thine Thou art thought voice wandering weary weep WILLIAM wind wings York City
Populära avsnitt
Sida 3185 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags Plying her needle and thread — Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! In poverty, hunger and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the rich ! She sang this "Song of the Shirt.
Sida 3450 - I saw eternity the other night Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm as it was bright; And round beneath it, time in hours, days, years, Driv'n by the spheres, Like a vast shadow moved, in which the world And all her train were hurled...
Sida 3552 - Abide with me ; fast falls the even-tide ; The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide ; When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me.
Sida 3541 - Thou, O Christ, art all I want; More than all in thee I find. Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, Heal the sick, and lead the blind. Just and holy is thy name; I am all unrighteousness: 30 False and full of sin I am, Thou art full of truth and grace.
Sida 3265 - MAY I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence: live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge man's search To vaster issues.
Sida 3193 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill: But their strong nerves at last must yield; They tame but one another still: Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds; Upon Death's purple altar now See, where the victor-victim bleeds: Your heads must come To the cold tomb; Only the actions of the just Smell sweet, and blossom...
Sida 3288 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted...
Sida 3298 - And all their echoes mourn. The Willows, and the Hazel Copses green, Shall now no more be seen, Fanning their joyous Leaves to thy soft lays.
Sida 3468 - He that is down needs fear no fall, He that is low, no pride; He that is humble, ever shall Have God to be his guide.
Sida 3301 - Where the great Vision of the guarded mount Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold, — Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt with ruth ; And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth.