The Monthly Review, Том 2Sir Henry John Newbolt, Charles Hanbury-Williams J. Murray, 1901 |
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Addie Tristram's Admiral Admiralty æsthetic Arena Chapel army artist asked beauty Bellairs Boers called Captain CARLYON BELLAIRS Cecily century chamois character Church civilisation course Cowley Cowley's Crete doubt Duplay emotion England English eyes fact feeling figures frescoes Gainsborough Giotto give Government gunnery hand Harry honour houses Hudson Lowe human increase Innsbruck interest Iver Knossos Lasithi less lieutenants London look Lord Lord Rosebery matter Maximilian Mycenæan Napoleon nation nature naval officers Navy Neeld never Oliver Cromwell overcrowding painted Patmore peace perhaps person Picts picture poet poetry population practical present question race railway sanitary authority seems ships Siberia soldiers sound South Africa Theotocopuli things thought Tiki-pu tion tom-tom tone torpedo Tristram of Blent true Verdi Wio-wani word Zabriska Zeus
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Страница 99 - Ah, dear Juliet, Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe That unsubstantial Death is amorous, And that the lean abhorred monster keeps Thee here in dark to be his paramour? For fear of that I still will stay with thee And never from this palace of dim night Depart again.
Страница 99 - O my love ! my wife ! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty : Thou art not conquer'd ; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
Страница 104 - ... charms apply ; Revenge upon her ear the conquests of her eye. Weak Lyre ! thy virtue sure Is useless here, since thou art only found To cure, but not to wound, And she to wound, but not to cure. Too weak too wilt thou prove My passion to remove ; Physic to other ills, thou'rt nourishment to love. Sleep, sleep again, my Lyre ! For thou canst never tell my humble tale In sounds that will prevail, Nor gentle thoughts in her inspire ; All thy vain mirth lay by, Bid thy strings silent lie, Sleep,...
Страница 98 - ... sea has striven to say So long, and yearned up the cliffs to tell; Thou art what all the winds have uttered not, What the still night suggesteth to the heart. Thy voice is like to music heard ere birth, Some spirit lute touched on a spirit sea; Thy face remembered is from other worlds, It has been died for, though I know not when, It has been sung of, though I know not where. It has the strangeness of the luring West, And of sad sea-horizons; beside thee I am aware of other times and lands, Of...
Страница 104 - tis not to adorn and gild each part; That shows more cost than art. Jewels at nose and lips but ill appear ; Rather than all things wit, let none be there, Several lights will not be seen, If there be nothing else between. Men doubt, because they stand so thick i* th' sky, If those be stars which paint the Galaxy.
Страница 155 - I have written little, but it is all my best; I have never spoken when I had nothing to say, nor spared time or labour to make my words true. I have respected posterity; and should there be a posterity which cares for letters, I dare to hope that it will respect me.
Страница 50 - I am directed by the Lords Commissioners of Her Majesty's Treasury, to acquaint you, for the information of the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, that...
Страница 138 - They loosed their curse against the king; They cursed him in his flesh and bones; And daily in their mystic ring They turn'd the maledictive stones, Till, where at meat the monarch sate, Amid the revel and the wine, He choked upon the food he ate, At Sletty, southward of the Boyne.
Страница 3 - I were turned from my house tomorrow, hundreds would be proud to shelter me. Poor people would go out and pass the night in the streets with their children, if I merely hinted that I wished to be alone. And I find you up, wandering homeless, and picking farthings off dead women by the wayside!
Страница 105 - Ye fields of Cambridge, our dear Cambridge, say, Have ye not seen us walking every day? Was there a tree about which did not know The love betwixt us two? Henceforth, ye gentle trees, for ever fade ; Or your sad branches thicker join, And into darksome shades combine, Dark as the grave wherein my friend is laid...