The Message of the Trees: An Anthology of Leaves and BranchesMaud Cuney-Hare Cornhill Company, 1918 - 190 pàgines |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 24.
Pàgina 37
... golden promise of fruitage Blossom and bough are spun . It pales in the air of the evening , Weighted with revery , Veiling itself as a maiden With bridal modesty . Then , deep in the darkness enfolded , It dreams of a distant frost ...
... golden promise of fruitage Blossom and bough are spun . It pales in the air of the evening , Weighted with revery , Veiling itself as a maiden With bridal modesty . Then , deep in the darkness enfolded , It dreams of a distant frost ...
Pàgina 41
... golden air , And gradual wins A voice , a music , a long surge , Sweet as a song , sad as a dirge , Sighed out like prayer ! The singer knows not what he sings . A lonely sound Comes trembling through him from profound Aerial springs ...
... golden air , And gradual wins A voice , a music , a long surge , Sweet as a song , sad as a dirge , Sighed out like prayer ! The singer knows not what he sings . A lonely sound Comes trembling through him from profound Aerial springs ...
Pàgina 43
... golden glow , Whom the boyish South Wind seeks for and the girlish - stepping Rain ; Whom the sleepy leaves still whisper men shall never see again ; She whose Vivien charms were mistress of the magic Merlin knew , That could change the ...
... golden glow , Whom the boyish South Wind seeks for and the girlish - stepping Rain ; Whom the sleepy leaves still whisper men shall never see again ; She whose Vivien charms were mistress of the magic Merlin knew , That could change the ...
Pàgina 59
... golden moon With the flowery moths that flutter thro ' the scented leaves of June , And the mind of man with beauty , and youth with the dreaming night Of stars and flowers and waters and breasts of glimmering white , And streaming hair ...
... golden moon With the flowery moths that flutter thro ' the scented leaves of June , And the mind of man with beauty , and youth with the dreaming night Of stars and flowers and waters and breasts of glimmering white , And streaming hair ...
Pàgina 65
... golden chords of my soul , Sound sweet on it Love's own tune . Ah , leaves , ye fall , and grow green again , Nor mourn for the springtime fled ; Ah , trees , ye bloom in another June , But the life of my life is dead ! Caroline D. Howe ...
... golden chords of my soul , Sound sweet on it Love's own tune . Ah , leaves , ye fall , and grow green again , Nor mourn for the springtime fled ; Ah , trees , ye bloom in another June , But the life of my life is dead ! Caroline D. Howe ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Message of the Trees: An Anthology of Leaves and Branches Maud Cuney Hare,William Stanley Braithwaite Previsualització no disponible - 2009 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
Amy Levy Archibald Lampman arms Arthur Upson autumn beauty beech beneath birds Bliss Carman bloom blossoms blue boughs branches breath breeze Brere bright Burnham-beeches clouds cool dark death deep delight dreams DUST OF EDEN earth eyes fair fall flower foliage forest George Meredith glory glow gold golden gray groves hear heart heaven hills knew leaf leafy light living look Madison Cawein moon morning murmur never night o'er pass peace Percy Bysshe Shelley Percy Mackaye pine pine-tree poplar Richard Le Gallienne rocks roots rose round rustle shade shadow shining sigh silence singing sleep soft solemn song soul spring stand stars storm summer sweet tender thee things thou trembling trunk twilight voice wander waves whisper wild William Cullen Bryant William Rose Benét William Wordsworth wind wings winter woodland woods
Passatges populars
Pàgina 117 - THE groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them — ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems ; in the darkling wood, Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.
Pàgina 48 - When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces, The mother of months in meadow or plain Fills the shadows and windy places With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain ; And the brown bright nightingale amorous Is half assuaged for Itylus, For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces, The tongueless vigil, and all the pain.
Pàgina 117 - Father, thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns, thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose All these fair ranks of trees.
Pàgina 33 - And should my youth, as youth is apt, I know, Some harshness show, All vain asperities I, day by day, Would wear away, Till the smooth temper of my age should be Like the high leaves upon the holly tree.
Pàgina 133 - I last took a view Of my favourite field, and the bank where they grew ; And now in the grass behold they are laid, And the tree is my seat that once lent me a shade. The blackbird has fled to another retreat, Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat...
Pàgina 44 - To Scotland's heaths ; or those that crossed the sea And drew their sounding bows at Azincour, Perhaps at earlier Crecy, or Poictiers. Of vast circumference and gloom profound This solitary Tree ! — a living thing Produced too slowly ever to decay ; Of form and aspect too magnificent To be destroyed.
Pàgina 180 - THE LAST LEAF I saw him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found 10 By the Crier on his round Through the town.
Pàgina 108 - Old Yew, which graspest at the stones That name the under-lying dead, Thy fibres net the dreamless head, Thy roots are wrapt about the bones. The seasons bring the flower again, And bring the firstling to the flock; And in the dusk of thee, the clock Beats out the little lives of men.
Pàgina 65 - The lightest wind was in its nest, The tempest in its home. The whispering waves were half asleep, The clouds were gone to play, And on the bosom of the deep The smile of Heaven lay...
Pàgina 66 - twere a little sky Gulfed in a world below ; A firmament of purple light, Which in the dark earth lay, More boundless than the depth of night, And purer than the day— In which the lovely forests grew, As in the upper air, More perfect both in shape and hue Than any spreading there.