SONETS SLECTED FROM ENGLISH AND AMERICAN AUTHORS |
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Página 27
... tears ! But seeming now , when all those days are o'er , The sound of joy once heard , and heard no more . William ... tear That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear , I may look back on every sorrow past , And meet life's peaceful ...
... tears ! But seeming now , when all those days are o'er , The sound of joy once heard , and heard no more . William ... tear That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear , I may look back on every sorrow past , And meet life's peaceful ...
Página 36
... tears will sometimes flow we know not why ; If spring be past , I said , shall love remain ? She moved aside , yet soon she answered me , Turning her gaze responsive to mine own , Spring days are gone , and yet the grass , we see Unto a ...
... tears will sometimes flow we know not why ; If spring be past , I said , shall love remain ? She moved aside , yet soon she answered me , Turning her gaze responsive to mine own , Spring days are gone , and yet the grass , we see Unto a ...
Página 39
... tear That falls through the clear ether silently . - an eye John Keats . ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET THE poetry of earth is never dead : When all the birds are faint with the hot sun , And hide in cooling trees , a voice will run ...
... tear That falls through the clear ether silently . - an eye John Keats . ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET THE poetry of earth is never dead : When all the birds are faint with the hot sun , And hide in cooling trees , a voice will run ...
Página 45
... tears , what hate of wrong , What passionate outcry of a soul in pain , Uprose this poem of the earth and air , This mediæval miracle of song ! Henry Wadsworth Longfellow . III I ENTER , and I see thee in the gloom Of the long aisles ...
... tears , what hate of wrong , What passionate outcry of a soul in pain , Uprose this poem of the earth and air , This mediæval miracle of song ! Henry Wadsworth Longfellow . III I ENTER , and I see thee in the gloom Of the long aisles ...
Página 49
... tears drop like amber while I go In reach of Thy divinest voice complete In humanest affection— thus , in sooth , To lose the sense of losing . As a child , Whose song - bird seeks the wood forevermore , Is sung to in its stead by ...
... tears drop like amber while I go In reach of Thy divinest voice complete In humanest affection— thus , in sooth , To lose the sense of losing . As a child , Whose song - bird seeks the wood forevermore , Is sung to in its stead by ...
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Términos y frases comunes
beauty behold beneath birds blood breath bright Christina G cloud Company Dante Gabriel Rossetti dark dead dear death deep delight door dost doth dream earth Edmund Spenser Elizabeth Barrett Browning English eternal eyes face fair feet flowers gaze glorious grace hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven Henry Wadsworth Longfellow hour immortal Italian John Keats John Milton land leaves life's lines lips lone Lord love thee love's mighty moon murmur never night o'er pale passionate pause peace permission Petrarch Philip Bourke Marston poets praise publishers Reprinted from Poems rhyme scheme round sestet shadows shine sight silence sing sleep smile song sonnet sorrow soul sound Spenser stars summer Surrey sweet tears Theodore Watts-Dunton thine things Thou art thought trembling verse voice weary weep wild William Lisle Bowles William Shakespeare William Wordsworth wind wings Wyatt
Pasajes populares
Página 13 - THAT time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Página 24 - Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not. — Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Página 14 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Página 97 - If I should die, think only this of me : That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed ; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
Página 9 - Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part! Nay, I have done. You get no more of me! And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever! Cancel all our vows! And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.
Página 23 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Página 21 - Their martyred blood and ashes sow O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple Tyrant ; that from these may grow A hundredfold, who, having learnt thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian woe.
Página 12 - Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme ; But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn The living record of your memory.
Página 21 - WHEN I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one Talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide, "Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?
Página 21 - AVENGE, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold; Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget not; in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks.