The Poets of the Future: A College Anthology

Portada
Henry Thomas
Stratford Company, 1916

Des de l'interior del llibre

Continguts

Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot

Frases i termes més freqüents

Passatges populars

Pàgina 131 - He (Shakespeare) was the man who of all modern, and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive
Pàgina 40 - And the days pass, and the weeks pass, And nothing changes but the grass. But down where the fireflies are like eyes, And the damps shudder, and the mists rise, The hemp-stalks stand up toward the skies. And down from the poop of the
Pàgina 39 - The hemp that shall hang me is not grown!" His name bestrode the seas like Death, The waters trembled at his breath. This is the tale of how he fell, Of the long sweep and the heavy swell, And the rope that dragged him down to Hell. The fight was done, and the gutted ship, Stripped like a shark the sea-gulls strip,
Pàgina 44 - And there was nought between sea and sun, Nought but the sun and the sky and the sea. But down by the marsh, where the fever breeds, Only the water chuckles and pleads For the hemp
Pàgina iii - contains one hundred and forty of the best poems written by American University Students during the past college year. Sixty colleges are represented in this anthology.
Pàgina 81 - But she shall dress more strangely still: In all men's eyes she shall be seen To wear my little silver dreams Like tinkling trinkets of a queen. Ay, queenlike, she shall move them all To adoration and desire; For she shall wear my golden dreams As though they were a robe of fire.
Pàgina 120 - Its steady lustre, penetrating rays, For endless ages after it has ceased its race; So Shakespeare— Brightest sun, most clear And lucid star of earthly intellects,— Shines, ay, flashes, blazes forth In myriad variegated rays, Each ray a full-souled thought, And striking everyone from south to north With admiration, wonder, awe,— And thus forever, on through endless days.
Pàgina 75 - lilies near my door are caught in sleep. Oh world, I watched you in your wild caprice, Heart to your heart, I lay, dust to your dust; And have I learned mere fancies blown with gust And gale? What is this sense of certain peace? What peace is
Pàgina 75 - lazy drawl Of tongued waters climbing on the steep. The ripples whisper in their circling sweep And edge along the willows near the wall. The night is dumb with
Pàgina 44 - fast to a dead man's throat And blind Fate gathers back her seeds!

Informació bibliogràfica