Selections from the Poetical Works of A.C. SwinburneT.Y. Crowell & Company, 1884 - 634 páginas |
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Selections from the Poetical Works of A.C. Swinburne Richard Henry Stoddard,Algernon Charles Swinburne Sin vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Términos y frases comunes
ANTIPHONE Arthur Erskine Atalanta bear bitter blood born Bothwell breath brows burn Calydon Chastelard Chthonia crown dark Darnley daugh dead death dreams ears earth Erechtheus Eumolpus eyes face fain fair fair lord faith fear feet fire flame flower friends give God's gods gold grace grief hair hand hast hate hath head hear heart heaven hold HOLYROOD honor hope hour John Knox king kiss land laugh leave light lips live look lord love's Madam maiden man's Mary Beaton Mary Stuart Meleager men's mouth Murray naught night pity praise Praxithea pray Queen Robert Stuart sake Scotland Semichorus shame sight sing slain slay sleep soft song soul spake speak spirit stand stars strong sure sweet sword Tamburlaine tears thee thine things thou thought tongue twain weep wind wings wise witness word wrath
Pasajes populares
Página 7 - 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.
Página 465 - Sister, my sister, O fleet sweet swallow, Thy way is long to the sun and the south; But I, fulfilled of my heart's desire, Shedding my song upon height, upon hollow, From tawny body and sweet small mouth Feed the heart of the night with fire.
Página 473 - I came as one whose thoughts half linger, Half run before; The youngest to the oldest singer That England bore. I found him whom I shall not find Till all grief end, In holiest age our mightiest mind, Father and friend.
Página 479 - THE GARDEN OF PROSERPINE Here, where the world is quiet, Here, where all trouble seems Dead winds' and spent waves' riot In doubtful dreams of dreams; I watch the green field growing For reaping folk and sowing, For harvest-time and mowing, A sleepy world of streams. I am tired of tears and laughter, And men that laugh and weep, Of what may come hereafter For men that sow to reap: I am weary of days and hours, Blown buds of barren flowers, Desires and dreams and powers And everything but sleep.
Página 7 - For winter's rains and ruins are over, And all the season of snows and sins; The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins; And time remembered is grief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
Página 537 - Thou sawest, in thine old singing season, brother, Secrets and sorrows unbeheld of us : Fierce loves, and lovely leaf-buds poisonous, Bare to thy subtler eye, but for none other Blowing by night in some unbreathed-in clime ; The hidden harvest of luxurious time, Sin without shape, and pleasure without speech...
Página 11 - BEFORE the beginning of years, There came to the making of man Time, with a gift of tears; Grief, with a glass that ran; Pleasure, with pain for leaven; * Summer, with flowers that fell; Remembrance fallen from heaven, And madness risen from hell; Strength without hands to smite; Love that endures for a breath; " Night, the shadow of light, And life, the shadow of death.
Página 464 - ... and deep ; And though she saw all heaven in flower above, She would not love. Let us give up, go down ; she will not care. Though all the stars made gold of all the air, And the sea moving saw before it move One moon-flower making all the foam-flowers fair; Though all those waves went over us, and drove Deep down the stifling lips and drowning hair, She would not care. Let us go hence, go hence ; she will not see. Sing all once more together ; surely she, She too, remembering days and words that...
Página 465 - O sister, sister, thy first-begotten ! The hands that cling and the feet that follow, The voice of the child's blood crying yet Who hath remembered me ? who hath forgotten ? Thou hast forgotten, O summer swallow, But the world shall end when I forget.
Página 563 - The kings of the earth stood up, And the rulers took counsel together, to smite her and slay; And the blood of her wounds is given us to drink to-day.