PoemsH. S. King, 1876 - 212 páginas |
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Página 8
... o'er their sleep the shadow of her shrine . O thou confessed too mortal by the o'er - fraught Crowned forehead , must thy drooped eyes ever see The glut of pleasure , those pale lips of thine Still suck a bitter - sweet satiety , Thy ...
... o'er their sleep the shadow of her shrine . O thou confessed too mortal by the o'er - fraught Crowned forehead , must thy drooped eyes ever see The glut of pleasure , those pale lips of thine Still suck a bitter - sweet satiety , Thy ...
Página 11
... o'er all The sky unsearchable , which lays its claim , — A large redemption not to be annulled , — Upon the heart ; and far below , the sea Breaking and breaking , smoothly , silently . What need I any further ? Now once more My ...
... o'er all The sky unsearchable , which lays its claim , — A large redemption not to be annulled , — Upon the heart ; and far below , the sea Breaking and breaking , smoothly , silently . What need I any further ? Now once more My ...
Página 14
... O'er which we hang as the bright bow of foam Above the never - filled receptacle Hangs seven - hued where the endless cataract leaps . O now I guess why you have summoned me , Headlands and heights , to your companionship ; Confess that ...
... O'er which we hang as the bright bow of foam Above the never - filled receptacle Hangs seven - hued where the endless cataract leaps . O now I guess why you have summoned me , Headlands and heights , to your companionship ; Confess that ...
Página 17
... lifeless , bright , illimitable , The world's confine , o'er which no sighing goes From weary winds of Time . I sat me down B Upon a red stone flung on the red sand , " LA RÉVÉLATION PAR LE DÉSERT . ” 17 La Révélation par le Désert,
... lifeless , bright , illimitable , The world's confine , o'er which no sighing goes From weary winds of Time . I sat me down B Upon a red stone flung on the red sand , " LA RÉVÉLATION PAR LE DÉSERT . ” 17 La Révélation par le Désert,
Página 27
... o'er wet woods the blue Shows past white edges of a sundering cloud More infinitely tender . Day is new , Night ended ; how the hills are overflowed With spaciousness of splendour , and each tree Is touched ; only not yet the lark is ...
... o'er wet woods the blue Shows past white edges of a sundering cloud More infinitely tender . Day is new , Night ended ; how the hills are overflowed With spaciousness of splendour , and each tree Is touched ; only not yet the lark is ...
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