PoemsTicknor, 1856 - 336 páginas |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 32
Página 33
... thine ! Canst thou not rest among the Tartar chiefs , And share the battle's common chance with us Who love thee , but must press forever first , In single fight incurring single risk , To find a father thou hast never seen ? Or , if ...
... thine ! Canst thou not rest among the Tartar chiefs , And share the battle's common chance with us Who love thee , but must press forever first , In single fight incurring single risk , To find a father thou hast never seen ? Or , if ...
Página 43
... thine own soul ! Art thou not Rustum ? Speak ! art thou not he ? " But Rustum ey'd askance the kneeling youth , And turn'd away , and spoke to his own soul : " Ah me , I muse what this young fox may mean . False , wily , boastful , are ...
... thine own soul ! Art thou not Rustum ? Speak ! art thou not he ? " But Rustum ey'd askance the kneeling youth , And turn'd away , and spoke to his own soul : " Ah me , I muse what this young fox may mean . False , wily , boastful , are ...
Página 44
... thine inmost soul : Either thou shalt renounce thy vaunt , and yield ; Or else thy bones shall strew this sand , till winds Bleach them , or Oxus with his summer floods , Oxus in summer wash them all away . " He spoke and Sohrab answer ...
... thine inmost soul : Either thou shalt renounce thy vaunt , and yield ; Or else thy bones shall strew this sand , till winds Bleach them , or Oxus with his summer floods , Oxus in summer wash them all away . " He spoke and Sohrab answer ...
Página 45
... look'd on , and smil'd , nor bar'd his sword , But courteously drew back , and spoke , and said : — " Thou strik'st too hard : that club of thine will float Upon the summer floods , and not my bones . SOHRAB AND RUSTUM . 45.
... look'd on , and smil'd , nor bar'd his sword , But courteously drew back , and spoke , and said : — " Thou strik'st too hard : that club of thine will float Upon the summer floods , and not my bones . SOHRAB AND RUSTUM . 45.
Página 57
... my father ; thou must live . For some are born to do great deeds , and live , As some are born to be obscur'd , and die . Do thou the deeds I die too young to do , And reap a second glory in thine age . Thou 4 SOHRAB AND RUSTUM . 57.
... my father ; thou must live . For some are born to do great deeds , and live , As some are born to be obscur'd , and die . Do thou the deeds I die too young to do , And reap a second glory in thine age . Thou 4 SOHRAB AND RUSTUM . 57.
Contenido
9 | |
30 | |
63 | |
69 | |
86 | |
121 | |
127 | |
132 | |
194 | |
207 | |
241 | |
252 | |
260 | |
266 | |
272 | |
278 | |
141 | |
155 | |
161 | |
172 | |
180 | |
186 | |
285 | |
300 | |
310 | |
318 | |
328 | |
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Términos y frases comunes
action Afrasiab answer'd arms art thou Asgard Asopus Balder Baltic Sea breast Breidablik bright Brittany calm cheeks clear cold dark dead death deep dost doth dream earth eyes Fate Father Fausta feel forest gaze gloom Goddess Gods golden grave gray green grief Gudurz hair hand hath head hear heart Heaven Hela Hela's realm Hermod Hoder horse Iacchus Iseult King light liv'd live lonely look'd lov'd Midgard morn mountain mourn Nanna Niflheim night Niord o'er Odin Odin's once Oxus pain pale pass'd Persian plain Poet poetical round Ruksh Rustum sand sate Seistan shalt shines side sings sits sleep Sleipner smile Sohrab soul spake spear spoke stand stars stood stream sweet Tartar tears Thebes thee thine thou art thou hast Tiresias Tristram turn'd Valhalla Vizier voice wandering waves weep wild wind youth
Pasajes populares
Página 169 - O born in days when wits were fresh and clear, And life ran gaily as the sparkling Thames; Before this strange disease of modern life, With its sick hurry, its divided aims, Its heads o'ertaxed, its palsied hearts, was rife — Fly hence, our contact fear!
Página 173 - OTHERS abide our question. Thou art free. We ask and ask — Thou smilest and art still, Out-topping knowledge. For the loftiest hill, Who to the stars uncrowns his majesty, Planting his steadfast footsteps in the sea, Making the heaven of heavens his dwelling-place, Spares but the cloudy border of his base To the...
Página 168 - For whom each year we see Breeds new beginnings, disappointments new; Who hesitate and falter life away, And lose to-morrow the ground won to-day — Ah!
Página 137 - When did music come this way? Children dear, was it yesterday? Children dear, was it yesterday (Call yet once) that she went away? Once she sate with you and me, On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea, And the youngest sate on her knee. She comb'd its bright hair, and she tended it well, When down swung the sound of the far-off bell.
Página 136 - 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...
Página 138 - we are long alone; ' The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan.
Página 167 - For early didst thou leave the world, with powers Fresh, undiverted to the world without, Firm to their mark, not spent on other things; Free from the sick fatigue, the languid doubt, Which much to have tried, in much been baffled, brings. 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.
Página 69 - Far, far from here, The Adriatic breaks in a warm bay Among the green Illyrian hills ; and there The sunshine in the happy glens is fair, And by the sea, and in the brakes. The grass is cool, the sea-side air Buoyant and fresh, the mountain-flowers More virginal and sweet than ours.
Página 10 - Greek genius suppose to be its exclusive characteristics, have disappeared ; the calm, the cheerfulness, the disinterested ob1 jectivity have disappeared : the dialogue of the mind with itself has commenced ; modern problems have presented themselves ; we hear already the doubts, we witness the discouragement, of Hamlet and of Faust.
Página 51 - ... vengeance upon thee. Fierce man, bethink thee, for an only son! What will that grief, what will that vengeance be? Oh, could I live, till I that grief had seen! Yet him I pity not so much, but her, My mother, who in Ader-baijan dwells 59° With that old king, her father, who grows gray With age, and rules over the valiant Koords.