The Podesta's Daughter: And Other Miscellaneous PoemsA. Hart, 1852 - 156 páginas |
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Página 61
... you another inner rim ; Let girls hang over the goblet's brim And dangle in wine their white foot - tips ; While crouched on their palms , with pouting lips , Long - bearded Pan and his panting troop In the 6 THE IVORY CARVER . 61.
... you another inner rim ; Let girls hang over the goblet's brim And dangle in wine their white foot - tips ; While crouched on their palms , with pouting lips , Long - bearded Pan and his panting troop In the 6 THE IVORY CARVER . 61.
Página 104
... barren mountains , Restlessly moan on the deserts of ocean , Wail o'er thy fall in the desolate forests , Lost star of paradise , straying alone ! THE VISION OF THE GOBLET . EVOE BACCHE ! wine 104 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS .
... barren mountains , Restlessly moan on the deserts of ocean , Wail o'er thy fall in the desolate forests , Lost star of paradise , straying alone ! THE VISION OF THE GOBLET . EVOE BACCHE ! wine 104 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS .
Página 105
... wine hath seized my soul ; The fury of the jolly god is on ! Reach me the mighty ancient bowl : Fill till the goblet weeps , Fill till the rushing current sweeps The dull , cold present to oblivion ! Now swing amain the mystic beaker ...
... wine hath seized my soul ; The fury of the jolly god is on ! Reach me the mighty ancient bowl : Fill till the goblet weeps , Fill till the rushing current sweeps The dull , cold present to oblivion ! Now swing amain the mystic beaker ...
Página 106
... wine - waves , dashing , splashing , Seem bacchantian cymbals clashing To the rumbling drum , And the shivering flutes ' shrill singing , And the jingling tabors ' ringing ; While anon , the hurly dying , Syrinx softly breathes her ...
... wine - waves , dashing , splashing , Seem bacchantian cymbals clashing To the rumbling drum , And the shivering flutes ' shrill singing , And the jingling tabors ' ringing ; While anon , the hurly dying , Syrinx softly breathes her ...
Página 107
... Wine in the blood and dizzy eye , Wine in every sinew burning , Onward still its minions spurning Over hill , through lushy meadow , Through the forest's glooming shadow , Hither , thither , without caring Where their guideless feet are ...
... Wine in the blood and dizzy eye , Wine in every sinew burning , Onward still its minions spurning Over hill , through lushy meadow , Through the forest's glooming shadow , Hither , thither , without caring Where their guideless feet are ...
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The Podesta's Daughter and Other: Miscellaneous Poems (Classic Reprint) George Henry Boker Sin vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Términos y frases comunes
amid Anselm aspiring towers Bacche bear beneath billows blazing blood bosom breath bright brow burst calm Carving charms beneath Christ clouds cottage Count Odo crooking finger crystal planets darkness death dost DUKE ODO dull earth eyes face father fear flaming Florio flowers forever fruitful fur clothing gaze Giulia glance glow golden grass Grocer's daughter hand Hark haughty hear heart heaven heavenly hills holy ivory bone labor laugh light lips look maiden martial music miracle mortal murmur night nodding o'er Odo's pain pardon passion planet PODESTA priests proud roar rose round royal gem sail saint Satyr shadows shone shout shrink silent singing Sir John Franklin smile solemn song soul spirit spoke star sweet tears thee thing thou thought Thrice cursed throng toil trees trembling turbid current Twas waves ween wine winter wonder words wrath
Pasajes populares
Página 129 - The summer went, the winter came, — We could not rule the year ; But summer will melt the ice again, And open a path to the sunny main, Whereon our ships shall steer...
Página 130 - Sir John, where are the English fields.' And where are the English trees ? And where are the little English flowers That open in the breeze ? ' ' " Be still, be still, my brave sailors! You shall see the fields again, And smell the scent of the opening flowers. The grass and the waving grain." " Oh ! when shall I see my orphan child? My Mary waits for me.
Página 125 - Between your land and the polar star My goodly vessels go." " Come down, if you would journey there," The little Indian said ; " And change your cloth for fur clothing, Your vessel for a sled.
Página 128 - A sled were better than a ship, To cruise through ice and snow. Down sank the baleful crimson sun, The northern light came out, And glared upon the ice-bound ships, And shook its spears about.
Página 125 - My goodly vessels go. Come down, if you would journey there, The little Indian said ; And change your cloth for fur clothing, Your vessel for a sled. But lightly laughed the stout Sir John, And the crew laughed with him too : — A sailor to change from ship to sled, I ween, were something new ! All through the long, long polar day, The vessels westward sped ; And wherever the sail of Sir John was blown, The ice gave way and fled : Gave way with many a hollow groan, And with many a surly roar, But...
Página 131 - Oh, think you, good Sir John Franklin. We'll ever see the land ? 'Twas cruel to send us here to starve Without a helping hand.
Página 60 - Silently sat the artist alone, Carving a Christ from the ivory bone. Little by little with toil and pain, He won his way through the sightless grain, That held and yet hid the thing he sought, Till the work stood up, a growing thought.
Página 128 - Down sank the baleful crimson sun, The northern light came out, And glared upon the ice-bound ships, And shook its spears about. The snow came down, storm breeding storm, And on the decks was laid : Till the weary sailor, sick at heart, Sank down beside his spade. Sir John ! the night is black and long, The hissing wind is bleak, The hard green ice is strong as death : — I prithee, Captain ! speak ! The night is neither bright nor short, The singing breeze is cold : The ice is not so strong as...
Página 126 - Gave way with many a hollow groan, And with many a surly roar ; But it murmured and threatened on every side, And closed where he sailed before. " Ho ! see ye not, my merry men, The broad and open sea ? Bethink ye what the whaler said, Think of the little Indian's sled !" The crew laughed out in glee. " Sir John, Sir John, 'tis bitter cold, The scud drives on the breeze, The ice comes looming from the north, The very sunbeams freeze.
Página 124 - The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around: It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound...