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arms beauty beneath blood bower breast breath bright brow called cast castle close cloud comes crowned dark dead death deep delight doth Drayton earth Edition eyes face fair falls field fight flow flower follow forest gentle gloom glory grace grave gray green hand hath hear heard heart Herne the hunter hills hour ISLE king lady ladye land leave light lives look mind mother mountains never night o'er o’er once passed past peace plain queene rest rise river rock Rosamonde Rose round scene seemed seen shade side silent song soul sound stand stood stream strong sweet tears tell thee thou thoughts towers towne train trees turns unto vale voice walk walls waves Wight wild wind woods youth
第 40 頁 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth ; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Not harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue.
第 40 頁 - All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods, And mountains; and of all that we behold From this green earth ; of all the mighty world Of eye, and ear, — both what they half create, And what perceive...
第 77 頁 - And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
第 89 頁 - On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood. Robed in the sable garb of woe. With haggard eyes the poet stood; (Loose his beard, and hoary hair Streamed, like a meteor, to the troubled air), And with a master's hand, and prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
第 85 頁 - Her eyes were fair, and very fair : Her beauty made me glad. " Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be ?" " How many ? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they ? I pray you tell.
第 86 頁 - And often after sunset, Sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there.
第 78 頁 - Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood With solemn reverence : throw away respect, Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty, For you have but mistook me all this while: I live with bread like you, feel want, Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus, How can you say to me I am a king?
第 10 頁 - Pressed closely palm to palm and to his mouth Uplifted, he, as through an instrument, Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls, That they might answer him. — And they would shout Across the watery vale, and shout again, Responsive to his call, — with quivering peals, And long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud Redoubled and redoubled...