Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Anarchs Apennine art thou azure Baubo beams beneath blood blue bowers breast breath bright burning burst calm cave chameleons chasm city of death clouds cold dark dead death deep didst divine dome dost doth double planet dream earth eternal eyes faint fair Lady Faust fear flame fleeting river flowers gentle ghosts gleams glory glory rides golden grass grave green hair heap hear heart heaven hope hues isle Lady leaves LECHLADE light lips living lone Mephistopheles mighty Mont Blanc moon morning mountains night nursling o'er ocean odours painted veil pale rain rocks round ruin save the Queen shadow silent sleep smile snow soft song SOPHIA STACEY soul sound spirit stars stream sweet swift tears tempest thee thine things thou art thought throne tomb tower vale veil voice wandering waves weep wert Whilst wild winds wings
Pàgina 115 - The stars peep behind her and peer ; And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, Like a swarm of golden bees, When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas, Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high, Are each paved with the moon and these. I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone, And the Moon's with a girdle of pearl ; The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim, When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
Pàgina 84 - So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou For whose path the Atlantic's level powers Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear The sapless foliage of the ocean, know Thy voice, and suddenly grow grey with fear, And tremble and despoil themselves: oh, hear!
Pàgina 83 - Maenad, even from the dim verge Of the horizon to the zenith's height, The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge Of the dying year, to which this closing night Will be the dome of a vast...
Pàgina 113 - The sweet buds every one. When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under; And then again I dissolve it in rain. And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Pàgina 123 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
Pàgina 67 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear...
Pàgina 24 - Spirit of BEAUTY, that dost consecrate With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon Of human thought or form, — where art thou gone ? Why dost thou pass away and leave our state, This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and desolate...
Pàgina 118 - And nearer to the river's trembling edge There grew broad flag-flowers, purple prankt with white, And starry river-buds among the sedge, And floating water-lilies, broad and bright, Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge With moonlight beams of their own watery light ; And bulrushes, and reeds of such deep green As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen.