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ALFRED TENNYSON answer'd Arac arms ask'd babe bassoon beat beauty betwixt Blanche blow bow'd breathe brother brows call'd cataract cheek child clash'd cried Crown 8vo Cyril dark dead dear death dipt dream dropt dying echoes eyes face fair fall'n fancy father Fcap fear feet fell fight Florian flying gates gemlike girl half hall hand happy day head hear heard heart Heaven king Lady Psyche land light Lilia lily lips live look'd maiden maids Maud Melissa MONODRAMA morning mother moved night noble o'er passionate peace Poems poison'd Prince Princess Princess Ida rode roll'd rose sang seem'd shadow shame shining smile song SONNETS soul spake speak spoke star stood strange sweet talk'd tender thee things thou thought thro TIMOLEON touch'd trumpet turn'd verse vext voice Westminster Review wild Winter's Tale woman
Página 69 - On lips that are for others; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; O Death in Life, the days that are no more.
Página 49 - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon ; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon : Sleep, my little one, sleep, my...
Página 133 - Ask me no more. Ask me no more : what answer should I give ? I love not hollow cheek or faded eye : Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die ! Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live ; Ask me no more.
Página 142 - ... a ghost she glimmers on to me. Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars, And all thy heart lies open unto me. Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me. Now folds the lily all her sweetness up, And slips into the bosom of the lake : So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip Into my bosom and be lost in me?
Página 233 - A shadow flits before me, Not thou, but like to thee: Ah Christ, that it were possible For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us, What and where they be.
Página 115 - Took the face-cloth from the face; Yet she neither moved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child upon her knee — Like summer tempest came her tears — " Sweet my child, I live for thee.
Página 218 - For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky, To faint in the light of the sun she loves, To faint in his light, and to die.
Página 165 - Perfectly beautiful: let it be granted her: where is the fault? All that I saw (for her eyes were downcast, not to be seen) Faultily faultless, icily regular, splendidly null, Dead perfection, no more; nothing more, if it had not been For a chance of travel, a paleness, an hour's defect of the rose, Or an underlip, you may call it a little too ripe, too full, Or the least little delicate aquiline curve in a sensitive nose, From which I escaped heart-free, with the least little touch of spleen.
Página 261 - The volume is anonymous ; but there is no reason for the author to be ashamed of it. The ' Poems of Italy' are evidently inspired by genuine enthusiasm in the cause espoused ; and one of them, ' The Execution of Felice Orsini,' has much poetic merit, the event celebrated being told with dramatic force.