Englische Studien, Том 21

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Gebr. Henninger, 1895

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Страница 445 - O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword; The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion and the mould of form, The observed of all observers, quite, quite down!
Страница 243 - Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He star'd at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Страница 295 - HAPPY is England ! I could be content To see no other verdure than its own ; To feel no other breezes than are blown Through its tall woods with high romances blent : Yet do I sometimes feel a languishment For skies Italian, and an inward groan To sit upon an Alp as on a throne, And half forget what world or worldling meant. Happy is England, sweet her artless daughters ; Enough their simple loveliness for me, Enough their whitest arms in silence clinging : Yet do I often warmly burn to...
Страница 249 - The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th
Страница 184 - The Moon is up, and yet it is not night — Sunset divides the sky with her — a sea Of glory streams along the Alpine height Of blue Friuli's mountains ; Heaven is free From clouds, but of all...
Страница 225 - While he from forth the closet brought a heap Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd, With jellies soother than the creamy curd, And lucent...
Страница 184 - Fill'd with the face of heaven, which, from afar, Comes down upon the waters ; all its hues, From the rich sunset to the rising star, Their magical variety diffuse : And now they change ; a paler shadow strews Its mantle o'er the mountains ; parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till — 'tis gone — and all is gray.
Страница 285 - O'er which it well might take a pleasant sleep, But that 'tis ever startled by the leap Of buds into ripe flowers; or by the flitting Of diverse moths, that aye their rest are quitting; Or by the moon lifting her silver rim Above a cloud, and with a gradual swim Coming into the blue with all her light.
Страница 255 - O SOLITUDE ! if I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap Of murky buildings ; climb with me the steep, — Nature's observatory — whence the dell, Its flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell, May seem a span ; let me thy vigils keep 'Mongst boughs pavilion'd, where the deer's swift leap Startles the wild bee from the fox-glove bell.
Страница 253 - Light feet, dark violet eyes, and parted hair ; Soft dimpled hands, white neck, and creamy breast ; Are things on which the dazzled senses rest Till the fond, fixed eyes, forget they stare. From such fine pictures, Heavens ! I cannot dare To turn my admiration, though unpossess'd They be of what is worthy, — though not drest, In lovely modesty, and virtues rare.

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