Poems, Volumen4J. Miller, 1863 |
Términos y frases comunes
angel Ariadne Aurora Leigh Bacchus beauty blue brow Browning's Cavour Charlotte Brontë child cold crown curse Cyclops dark daughter days go dead dear death divine Drama of Exile dream drop earth ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING English evermore eyes face fair feel flowers gave gives God's grace grave grief hand head hear heart heaven Hector Italy JAMES MILLER Kate King kissed Lady lips live look Lost Bower love thee love's METAMORPH mother mouth never nightingales noble Pandarus peace poems poet praise pray Psyche RICHARD WHATELY river Robert Browning Rome rose round shining sigh silence sing Sleep smile song soul South spake speak stand story sweet sweetest sword tears THEODORE TILTON Theseus thing THOMAS SPENCER JEROME thou thought tired truth turned Twas VIII voice wife woman words Zeus
Pasajes populares
Página 37 - Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops — at the bent spray's edge- — That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture!
Página 26 - Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints...
Página 36 - God be thanked, the meanest of his creatures Boasts two soul-sides, one to face the world with, One to show a woman when he loves her!
Página 144 - Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan! Piercing sweet by the river! Blinding sweet, O great god Pan! The sun on the hill forgot to die, And the lilies revived, and the dragon-fly Came back to dream on the river. Yet half a beast is the great god Pan To laugh as he sits by the river, Making a poet out of a man: The true gods sigh for the cost and pain, — For the reed which grows nevermore again As a reed with the reeds in the river.
Página 142 - WHAT was he doing, the great god Pan, Down in the reeds by the river? Spreading ruin and scattering ban, Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat, And breaking the golden lilies afloat • With the dragon-fly on the river? He tore out a reed, the great god Pan...
Página 186 - Ancona was free!" And some one came out of the cheers in the street, With a face pale as stone, to say something to me. My Guido was dead! I fell down at his feet, While they cheered in the street.
Página 142 - He tore out a reed, the great god Pan, From the deep, cool bed of the river; The limpid water turbidly ran, And the broken lilies a-dying lay, And the dragon-fly had fled away Ere he brought it out of the river.
Página 187 - And letters still came, shorter, sadder, more strong, Writ now but in one hand. I was not to faint. One loved me for two — would be with me ere long : And " Viva Italia" he died for, our saint, Who forbids our complaint.
Página 136 - No bird am I, to sing in June, And dare not ask an equal boon. Good nests and berries red are Nature's To give away to better creatures, — And yet my days go on, go on.
Página 187 - Swept smoothly the next news from Gaeta: — Shot. Tell his mother. Ah, ah, "his," "their" mother, — not "mine," No voice says "My mother