Poems, Том 3Chapman & Hall, 1864 |
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angels Austria beatific beauty behold beneath bird bless blind bower breath brow burn calm Casa Guidi windows cheek chrism Cimabue cloud crown curse Cyprus wine Dante dark dear death divine door dost doth dream drop earth evermore face fair feet Florence flowers gaze Giotto glory God's golden gorses grave grow hand hast hear heart heaven holy hope Italy kiss knee laugh leave life's light lips live look love thee love's moonstruck mother Naiads Neath never o'er once pale Pan is dead Petrarch pitiful poet poet's praise purple rose round sate shine shout sigh sight silence sing sleep smile snow song soul stand stone sweet Sweetest eyes tears Theocritus thine things thou art thought touch tremble truth turned Tuscan twixt VIII virelay voice ween weep wilt thou go wind wine word
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Страница 226 - Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints.
Страница 109 - What would we give to our beloved? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows? — He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Страница 111 - For me, my heart that erst did go Most like a tired child at a show, That sees through tears the mummers leap, Would now its wearied vision close, Would childlike on His love repose Who giveth His beloved sleep. And friends, dear friends, when it shall be That this low breath is gone from me, And round my bier ye come to weep, Let one most loving of you all, Say, " Not a tear must o'er her fall ! He giveth His beloved sleep.
Страница 110 - He giveth His beloved, sleep. 'Sleep soft, beloved!' we sometimes say, But have no tune to charm away Sad dreams that through the eye-lids creep. But never doleful dream again Shall break the happy slumber when He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Страница 118 - Deserted ! who hath dreamt that when the cross in darkness rested Upon the victim's hidden face, no love was manifested ? What frantic hands outstretched have e'er the atoning drops averted ? What tears have washed them from the soul, that one should be deserted ? Deserted!
Страница 115 - And now, what time ye all may read through dimming tears his story, How discord on the music fell and darkness on the glory, And how when, one by one, sweet sounds and wandering lights departed, He wore no less a loving face because so brokenhearted, He shall be strong to sanctify the poet's high vocation.
Страница 118 - It went up from the Holy's lips amid his lost creation, That, of the lost, no son should use those words of desolation...
Страница 117 - Like a sick child that knoweth not his mother while she blesses And drops upon his burning brow the coolness of her kisses — That turns his fevered eyes around...
Страница 204 - Say over again, and yet once over again, That thou dost love me. Though the word repeated Should seem "a cuckoo-song," as thou dost treat it, Remember, never to the hill or plain, Valley and wood, without her cuckoo-strain Comes the fresh Spring in all her green completed. Beloved, I, amid the darkness greeted By a doubtful spirit-voice, in that doubt's pain Cry, "Speak once nore — thou lovest!
Страница 49 - THERE is no God,' the foolish saith, — ' But none, ' There is no sorrow ; ' And nature oft, the cry of faith, In bitter need will borrow : Eyes, which the preacher could not school, By wayside graves are raised ; And lips say, ' God be pitiful,' Who ne'er said,