Τι λένε οι χρήστες - Σύνταξη κριτικής
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angel beauty bells born break breath bright cold dark dead dear death deep died Douglas dreams dying earth England eyes face fair fall father feet flowers follow forever give gold gone grow hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hold hope hour Italy John keep King lady land later leaves light lips lived London look Lord Mary morn never night o'er once pale passed poems poet published rest rise rock rose round seems shining sight sings sleep smile soft song soon soul sound spirit stand stars stream summer sweet tears tell tender thee thine things THOMAS thou thought true turn verse voice waters wave wind wings wish writing written wrote YOUNG
Σελίδα 151 - Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.
Σελίδα 82 - Go, lovely Rose! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
Σελίδα 224 - The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune Or to take arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing end them ? To die to sleep No more and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To die to sleep To sleep perchance to dream ay there's the rub For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil Must give us pause.
Σελίδα 38 - O Captain ! My Captain ! our fearful trip is done ; The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
Σελίδα 103 - HAPPY the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire ; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire.
Σελίδα 141 - I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright: I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Hath led me — who knows how? To thy chamber window, Sweet! The wandering airs they faint On the dark, the silent stream — The Champak odours fail Like sweet thoughts in a dream; The nightingale's complaint, It dies upon her heart; — As I must on thine, Oh, beloved as thou art!
Σελίδα 176 - Tiger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? and what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp?...
Σελίδα 201 - Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time. For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavor; And to-night I long for rest. Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the...
Σελίδα 225 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Σελίδα 178 - And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love I and my ANNABEL LEE — With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.