The Works of Alfred Tennyson, Tema 840,Volumen7Henry S. King, 1875 |
Términos y frases comunes
ALEXANDER BAIN ALFRED TENNYSON Almesbury answer'd art thou battle beauty bold Sir Bedivere brake Brittany Caerleon call'd Camelot churl circlet cried Crown 8vo damsels dark dead dream dream'd Ettarre ev'n Excalibur eyes face fall'n Fcap Gawain glanced golden grief Guinevere hall hand harp hate hath heard heart heathen heaven HERBERT SPENCER horse Isolt JOHN SAUNDERS jousts King Arthur King's knighthood lady late laugh'd light little Dagonet look'd lord love thee Lyonnesse maiden marr'd mist Modred moon noble o'er past Poems Post 8vo Price Queen realm return'd rode rose Sara Coleridge saying scorn Second Edition seem'd shadow shame Sir Fool Sir Lancelot Sir Pelleas slain slay Small 8vo soul spake stood sware sweet swine sword Table Round thine thou art thou hast thought thro tower trapt Tristram turn'd Vext voice vows weep wind woods
Pasajes populares
Página 86 - I weigh'd thy heart with one Too wholly true to dream untruth in thee, Made my tears burn — is also past — in part. And all is past, the sin is sinn'd, and I, Lo ! I forgive thee, as Eternal God Forgives : do thou for thine own soul the rest.
Página 106 - What is it thou hast seen ? or what hast heard ? ' And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : ' I heard the water lapping on the crag, And the long ripple washing in the reeds.
Página 114 - Ev'n to the highest he could climb, and saw, Straining his eyes beneath an arch of hand, Or thought he saw, the speck that bare the King, Down that long water opening on the deep Somewhere far off, pass on and on, and go From less to less and vanish into light. And the new sun rose bringing the new year.
Página 84 - I guard as God's high gift from scathe and wrong, Not greatly care to lose ; but rather think How sad it were for Arthur, should he live, To sit once more within his lonely hall, And miss the wonted number of my knights, And miss to hear high talk of noble deeds As in the golden days before thy sin.
Página 112 - If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend ? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. But now farewell. I am going a long way...
Página 111 - The old order changeth, yielding place to new, And God fulfils himself in many ways, (Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.