Old-world Idylls, and Other Verses

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Kegan Paul, Trench, 1883 - 245 páginas

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Página 236 - ... his saints and his gilded stern-frames He had thought like an egg-shell to crack us ; .Now Howard may get to his Flaccus, And Drake to his Devon again, And Hawkins bowl rubbers to Bacchus — For where are the galleons of Spain ? Let his Majesty hang to St. James The axe that he whetted to hack us ; He must play at some lustier games Or at sea he can hope to out-thwack us ; To his mines of Peru he would pack us To tug at his bullet and chain ; Alas ! that his Greatness should lack -us ! — But...
Página 214 - Love comes back to his vacant dwelling — The old, old Love that we knew of yore ! We see him stand by the open door, With his great eyes sad, and his bosom swelling. " He makes as though in our arms repelling He fain would lie, as he lay before ; Love comes back to his vacant dwelling...
Página 104 - My book in turn avers (No author's name is stated) That sometimes those Philosophers Are sadly mis-translated." " But hear, — the next's in stronger style : The Cynic School asserted That two red lips which part and smile May not be controverted ! " She smiled once more — "My book, I find, Observes some modern doctors Would make the Cynics out a .kind Of album-verse concoctors." Then I— "Why not? ' Ephesian law, No less than time's tradition, Enjoined fair speech on all who saw Diana's apparition.
Página 4 - The fresher modern traces ; For idle mallet, hoop, and ball Upon the lawn were lying ; A magazine, a tumbled shawl, Round which the swifts were flying ; And, tossed beside the Guelder rose, A heap of rainbow knitting, Where, blinking in her pleased repose, A Persian cat was sitting. " A place to love in, — live, — for aye, If we too, like Tithonus, Could find some God to stretch the gray...
Página 239 - There is place and enough for the pains of prose ; — But whenever a scent from the whitethorn blows. And the jasmine-stars...
Página 4 - You'd surely say Some tea-board garden-maker Had planned it in Dutch William's day To please some florist Quaker, So trim it was. The yew-trees still, With pious care perverted, Grew in the same grim shapes ; and still The lipless dolphin spurted ; Still in his wonted state abode The broken-nosed Apollo ; And still the cypress-arbour showed The same umbrageous hollow.
Página 173 - Spring comes laughing By vale and hill, By wind-flower walking And daffodil, — Sing stars of morning, Sing morning skies, Sing blue of speedwell, And my Love's eyes. When comes the Summer, Full-leaved and Strong, And gay birds gossip The orchard long, — Sing hid, sweet honey That no bee sips ; Sing red, red roses, And my Love's lips.
Página 74 - M. VIEUXBOIS (murmuring) Ah, PAUL ! ... old PAUL ! . . . EULALIE too ! And ROSE ! . . . And O ! ' the sky so blue ! ' BABETTE (sings) ' One had my Mother's eyes, Wistful and mild ; One had my Father's face ; One was a Child : All of them bent to me, — Bent down and smiled ! ' (He is asleep !) M. VIEUXBOIS (almost inaudibly) How I forget ! I am so old ! . . . Good night, BABETTE ! 4.67.
Página 161 - ... died ; — Message or wish, may be; — Smooth the folds out and see. Hardly the worst of us Here could have smiled !Only the tremulous Words of a child ; — Prattle, that has for stops Just a few ruddy drops. Look. She is sad to miss, Morning and night, His — her dead father's — kiss ; Tries to be bright, Good to mamma, and sweet. That is all.
Página 135 - So with the rest. Who will may trace "Behind the new each elder face Defined as clearly; Science proceeds, and man stands still; Our " world " today's as good or ill, — As cultured (nearly), As yours was, Horace!

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