The English Poets, Volumen5Thomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1918 |
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Página 14
... hath been my pilgrimage . All lapis , all , sons ! Else I give the Pope My villas ! Will ye ever eat my heart ? Ever your eyes were as a lizard's quick , They glitter like your mother's for my soul , Or ye would heighten my impoverished ...
... hath been my pilgrimage . All lapis , all , sons ! Else I give the Pope My villas ! Will ye ever eat my heart ? Ever your eyes were as a lizard's quick , They glitter like your mother's for my soul , Or ye would heighten my impoverished ...
Página 48
... hath loosed a thousand chains , Though he hath borne immortal pains , Action and suffering though he know— He hath not lived , if he lives so . He sees , in some great - historied land , 48 THE ENGLISH POETS.
... hath loosed a thousand chains , Though he hath borne immortal pains , Action and suffering though he know— He hath not lived , if he lives so . He sees , in some great - historied land , 48 THE ENGLISH POETS.
Página 73
... Hath really neither joy , nor love , nor light , Nor certitude , nor peace , nor help for pain ; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight , Where ignorant armies clash by night . PALLADIUM ...
... Hath really neither joy , nor love , nor light , Nor certitude , nor peace , nor help for pain ; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight , Where ignorant armies clash by night . PALLADIUM ...
Página 82
... Hath not as yet in its march Fainted , and fallen , and died ! See ! In the rocks of the world Marches the host of mankind , A feeble , wavering line . Where are they tending ? -A God Marshall'd them , gave them their goal . Ah , but ...
... Hath not as yet in its march Fainted , and fallen , and died ! See ! In the rocks of the world Marches the host of mankind , A feeble , wavering line . Where are they tending ? -A God Marshall'd them , gave them their goal . Ah , but ...
Página 85
... hath conquer'd thee ! Alack , for Corydon no rival now ! — But when Sicilian shepherds lost a mate , Some good survivor with his flute would go , Piping a ditty sad for Bion's fate ; And cross the unpermitted ferry's flow , And relax ...
... hath conquer'd thee ! Alack , for Corydon no rival now ! — But when Sicilian shepherds lost a mate , Some good survivor with his flute would go , Piping a ditty sad for Bion's fate ; And cross the unpermitted ferry's flow , And relax ...
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