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beneath blow born break breath brow cheek child close cloud cold comes dark dead dear death deep door Dora dream earth eyes face fair fall fear field fire flowers folds garden golden grave green grow half hand happy hath head hear heard heart Heaven hills hold hope hour King kiss knew Lady land leave light lips live look Lord mind moon morn mother move never night once Oriana pass Queen rest rise rose round seem'd shadow side sing sitting sleep slowly smile song soul sound speak spirit stars stood summer sweet tears thee thine things thou thought thro till took tree truth turn unto voice wild wind
Seite 200 - If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
Seite 265 - Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades Vext the dim sea: I am become a name; For always roaming with a hungry heart Much have I seen and known ; cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but...
Seite 145 - Lo ! in the middle of the wood, The folded leaf is woo'd from out the bud With winds upon the branch, and there Grows green and broad, and takes no care, Sun-steep'd at noon, and in the moon Nightly dew-fed ; and turning yellow Falls, and floats adown the air.
Seite 269 - Pleiads, rising thro' the mellow shade, Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid. Here about the beach I wander' d, nourishing a youth sublime With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time...
Seite 194 - What harm, undone? deep harm to disobey, Seeing obedience is the bond of rule. Were it well to obey then, if a king demand An act unprofitable, against himself ? The King is sick, and knows not what he does.
Seite 193 - And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: "I heard the ripple washing in the reeds, And the wild water lapping on the crag.
Seite 146 - Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast, And in a little while our lips are dumb. Let us alone. What is it that will last ? All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past.
Seite 281 - There the passions cramp'd no longer shall have scope and breathingspace; I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my dusky race. Iron-jointed, supple-sinew'd, they shall dive, and they shall run, Catch the wild goat by the hair, and hurl their lances in the sun; Whistle back the parrot's call, and leap the rainbows of the brooks, Not with blinded eyesight poring over miserable books Fool, again the dream, the fancy!