David Gray, and Other Essays: Chiefly on PoetrySampson, Low, Son, and Marston, 1868 - 318 頁 |
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第 1 到 5 筆結果,共 32 筆
第 5 頁
... moves , and mingles in tangible glory into the approven culture of the world . For , let it be noted , Nature is greedy of her truths , and generally ordains that the perception of one link in the chain of her relations is enough to ...
... moves , and mingles in tangible glory into the approven culture of the world . For , let it be noted , Nature is greedy of her truths , and generally ordains that the perception of one link in the chain of her relations is enough to ...
第 8 頁
... moving on to fixed consummations foreshadowed in the prophets . We have had no such wondrous epic as this since , and can have none such again . It is the poem of the one God , when yet He was merely a voice in the thunder- cloud , a ...
... moving on to fixed consummations foreshadowed in the prophets . We have had no such wondrous epic as this since , and can have none such again . It is the poem of the one God , when yet He was merely a voice in the thunder- cloud , a ...
第 21 頁
... his unpoetic nature . He saw , but was not moved enough to sing . For there is this marked differ- ence between poetic and all other utterance : it owes everything to concentration . Deep emotion is invariably rapid THE POET , OR SEER . 21.
... his unpoetic nature . He saw , but was not moved enough to sing . For there is this marked differ- ence between poetic and all other utterance : it owes everything to concentration . Deep emotion is invariably rapid THE POET , OR SEER . 21.
第 22 頁
... moved by purely lyrical utterance than by utterances of higher portent . Sappho troubles us more than Sophocles , Keats more than Words- worth . The personal cry , so sharp , so rapid , so genuine , can never fail to find an echo in our ...
... moved by purely lyrical utterance than by utterances of higher portent . Sappho troubles us more than Sophocles , Keats more than Words- worth . The personal cry , so sharp , so rapid , so genuine , can never fail to find an echo in our ...
第 23 頁
... move deeply in the region of melancholy and tears . But the happy calls move us deliciously , although truly our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought . " The lighter strains of Burns , the songs of Tannahill , some ...
... move deeply in the region of melancholy and tears . But the happy calls move us deliciously , although truly our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought . " The lighter strains of Burns , the songs of Tannahill , some ...
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常見字詞
Alfred de Musset Andrew artistic beautiful breath calm Campsie fells Catullus cold contemporary truth cries dark David Gray Dean Prior dear death divine dream emotion eternal truth exquisite eyes face feel friends Glasgow God's hear heard heart heaven Herrick Hesperides hope human immoral insincere intellectual Keats Leaves of Grass Lesbia light literary literature living London LONDON POEM look Lord Lord Houghton Luggie lyrical Merkland Milnes Milton mind modern moral Mysie mystery nature never night noble numbers once pale passion perfect Philoctetes picture pleasure poem poet poet's poetic poetry pure ROBERT BUCHANAN sake seemed Seer sight silence sincerity sings smile song Sophocles soul sound speech spiritual strange Student sweet Sydney Dobell sympathy tears thee things thou thought tion true utterance verses vision voice Walt Whitman weary wonder wondrous word Wordsworth write wrote young
熱門章節
第 24 頁 - And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
第 25 頁 - Here she was wont to go ! and here ! and here ! Just where those daisies, pinks, and violets grow : The world may find the Spring by following her ; For other print her airy steps ne'er left : Her treading would not bend a blade of grass, Or shake the downy blow-ball from his stalk ! But like the soft west-wind she shot along, And where she went the flowers took thickest root, As she had sowed them with her odorous foot...
第 213 頁 - Immense have been the preparations for me, , • Faithful and friendly the arms that have help'd me. Cycles" ferried my cradle, rowing and rowing like cheerful boatmen, For room to me stars kept aside in their own rings, They sent influences to look after what was to hold me. Before I was born out of my mother generations guided me, My embryo has never been torpid, nothing could overlay it...
第 29 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! And I have felt A Presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts! a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused; Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean, and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of Man...
第 43 頁 - Prone on the ground, as since, but on his rear, Circular base of rising folds that towered Fold above fold, a surging maze, his head Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes ; With burnished neck of verdant gold, erect Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass Floated redundant...
第 39 頁 - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn ; The same that oft-times hath Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
第 212 頁 - In all people I see myself, none more and not one a barley-corn less, And the good or bad I say of myself I say of them.
第 32 頁 - He holds on firmly to some thread of life — (It is the life to lead perforcedly) Which runs across some vast distracting orb Of glory on either side that meagre thread...
第 39 頁 - Teach us, Sprite or Bird, What sweet thoughts are thine: I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
第 28 頁 - In darkness and amid the many shapes Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart — How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee, 0 sylvan Wye! thou wanderer through the woods, How often has my spirit turned to thee!