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Página 10
... the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange . She only said " My life is dreary , He cometh not , " she said ; She said " I am aweary , aweary ; I would that I were dead ! " IL . Her tears fell with the dews at even MARIANA.
... the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange . She only said " My life is dreary , He cometh not , " she said ; She said " I am aweary , aweary ; I would that I were dead ! " IL . Her tears fell with the dews at even MARIANA.
Página 11
... dead ! " III . Upon the middle of the night , Waking she heard the night - fowl crow : The cock sung out an hour ere light : From the dark fen the oxen's low Came to her without hope of change , In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn ...
... dead ! " III . Upon the middle of the night , Waking she heard the night - fowl crow : The cock sung out an hour ere light : From the dark fen the oxen's low Came to her without hope of change , In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn ...
Página 12
... dead ! " IV . About a stone - cast from the wall A sluice with blacken'd waters slept , And o'er it many , round and small , The cluster'd marish - mosses crept . Hard by a poplar shook alway , All silver - green with gnarled bark , For ...
... dead ! " IV . About a stone - cast from the wall A sluice with blacken'd waters slept , And o'er it many , round and small , The cluster'd marish - mosses crept . Hard by a poplar shook alway , All silver - green with gnarled bark , For ...
Página 13
... dead ! " VI . All day within the dreamy house , The doors upon their hinges creak'd , The blue fly sung i ' the pane ; the mouse Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd , Or from the crevice peer'd about . Old faces glimmer'd thro ' the ...
... dead ! " VI . All day within the dreamy house , The doors upon their hinges creak'd , The blue fly sung i ' the pane ; the mouse Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd , Or from the crevice peer'd about . Old faces glimmer'd thro ' the ...
Página 14
... dead ! " VII . The sparrow's chirrup on the roof , The slow clock ticking , and the sound Which to the wooing wind aloof The poplar made , did all confound Her sense ; but most she loath'd the hour When the thick - moted sunbeam lay ...
... dead ! " VII . The sparrow's chirrup on the roof , The slow clock ticking , and the sound Which to the wooing wind aloof The poplar made , did all confound Her sense ; but most she loath'd the hour When the thick - moted sunbeam lay ...
Términos y frases comunes
answer'd beneath blow breast breath brow Camelot cheek cloud dark dead dear death deep dipt Dora DOVER STREET dream earth EDWARD MOXON evermore Excalibur eyes face fair fall flowers fluttering tongues folded gleaming gold dagger golden grave green hand happy harken ere hath hear heard heart Heaven high dial hour iris changes King Arthur kiss kiss'd knew Lady Lady of Shalott land last embrace light lightly lips live Locksley Hall look look'd Lord mind moon morn mother Ida never night o'er Oriana pain Queen rest roll'd rose round scorn seem'd shade shadow Shalott shining SIMEON STYLITES Sir Bedivere sitting sleep smile song soul sound spake speak spirit stars stept summer sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thro touch'd truth turn'd unto voice weary weep whisper wild wind words yonder
Pasajes populares
Página 163 - xI. So you must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear, To-morrow 'ill be the happiest time of all the glad New-year : To-morrow 'ill be of all the year the maddest merriest day, For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o
Página 106 - Yet I doubt not thro' the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widen'd with the process of the suns. What is that to him that reaps not harvest of his youthful joys, Tho' the deep heart of existence beat for ever like a boy's
Página 75 - 1832.) THE LADY OF SHALOTT. PART I. ON either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky ; And thro' the field the road runs by To many-tower'd Camelot; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Bound an island there below, The island of Shalott.
Página 185 - Dan Chaucer, the first warbler, whose sweet breath Preluded those melodious bursts, that fill The spacious times of great Elizabeth With sounds that echo still. m. And, for a while, the knowledge of his art Held me above the subject, as strong gales IT. Charged both mine eyes with tears. In every land I saw, wherever light illumineth,
Página 177 - The tempest crackles on the leads, And, ringing, spins from brand and mail; But o'er the dark a glory spreads, And gilds the driving hail. I leave the plain, I climb the height: No branchy thicket shelter yields ; But blessed forms in whistling storms Fly o'er waste fens and windy fields.
Página 186 - IT. Charged both mine eyes with tears. In every land I saw, wherever light illumineth, Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand The downward slope to death. T. Those far-renowned brides of ancient song Peopled the hollow dark, like burning stars, And I heard sounds of insult, shame, and wrong, And trumpets blown for wars
Página 110 - spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change. Thro' the shadow of the world we sweep into the younger day: Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay. Mother-Age (for mine I knew not) help me as when life begun
Página 183 - peak : The Lotos blows by every winding creek : All day the wind breathes low with mellower, tone : Thro' every hollow cave and alley lone Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust is blown. We have had enough of action, and of motion we,
Página 136 - he that shuts Love out, in turn shall be Shut out from Love, and on her threshold lie Howling in outer darkness. Not for this Was common clay ta'en from the common earth, Moulded by God, and temper'd with the tears Of angels to the perfect shape of man. THE PALACE OF ART. I
Página 200 - Moreover it is written that my race Hew'd Ammon, hip and thigh, from Aroer On Arnon unto Minneth." Here her face Glow'd, as I look'd at her. She lock'd her lips : she left me where I stood : " Glory to God," she sang, and past afar, Thridding the sombre boskage of the wood, Toward the morning-star.