Joseph and His Brethren: A Dramatic PoemH. Frowde, Oxford University Press, 1908 - 230 páginas |
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Términos y frases comunes
ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE Anne Brontë bear beauty behold BENJAMIN blood bosom breast breath Brethren brother brow Canaan cast dangerous dead doth dramatic dream E. V. LUCAS E'en earth Egypt Egyptian evil Exeunt Exit fair famine father fear flowers gentle George Borrow grace grave grief grieve hand HARVESTMAN hath heart Heaven honesty honour honour'd ISHMAELITE ISSACHAR JACOB JOSEPH Madam JUDAH king land LEVI live look lord MAGICIAN man's mercy mind NAPHTALI ne'er never o'er OFFICER passion patience peace PHARAOH PHRAXANOR poem poet poetry POTIPHAR Potiphar's wife pray precious REUBEN Rossetti SCENE scorn shame sight SIMEON sire slave sleep smile spirit STEWARD story sweet tell tent thee THEODORE WATTS-DUNTON thine thing thought thy dream trust truth unto vagabond-poet vale VIOLA MEYNELL Wells's wind wise wrath young youth ZEBULUN
Pasajes populares
Página xxvi - I see an unreached heaven of young desire Shine through my hopeless tears. My drooping sails Flap idly 'gainst the mast of my intent. I rot upon the waters when my prow Should grate the golden isles.
Página vii - Joseph and his Brethren ' will some day have to be acknowledged among the memorable men of the second great period in our poetry. . . . There are lines even in the overture of his poem which might, it seems to me, more naturally be mistaken even by an expert in verse for the work of the young Shakspeare, than any to be gathered elsewhere in the fields of English poetry.
Página 110 - Were I, like you, a lady of estate, I would adorn my brow with a bright star Of crusted diamond's lustre— stain'd with gold, Like to a frosted sunflower, when the morn Blinks in the east, and plays upon its front. My hair should bear a tiara of bright gems ; And all my velvet should be loop'd about With colours blending into harmony. I would sip water fragranc'd with sweet gum, To give my breathing sweetness.
Página 107 - The gaudy-colour'd story of his mind, Imagination, is his bedfellow, The past and future being both forgot, The precious present running all to waste. There is an ancient fashion in the world, — E'en sigh and choose again ! Attend.
Página 104 - ATTENDANT. Then, madam, you would say That there is nothing in the world but love. PHRAXANOR. Not quite : but I would say the fire o...
Página 109 - Our chiefest virtue is our fortitude : Yet maids who die in love do lack it much, Showing the world a bauble to their griefs. Our chiefest power is our stubborn will, Which we do lack the constancy to check, Seeing it is our agent and not Truth's, A giant dwarf, to forage for ourselves. Therefore, since Truth requires that I should lay Me prostrate at her foot and worship her, Rather than wield her sceptre and her power, I shall be bold to follow mine own way, And use the world as I find wit and...