The Princess: A MedleyHoughton, Mifflin, 1894 - 190 strani |
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answer'd brows cause character child College colour common commonly Coriolanus Cyril dark daughter dead death denote derived dream earth effect English Enoch Arden Enone expression eyes fair Florian girl golden Greek Greek Mythology Guinevere hand head heart Heaven human idea Julius Caesar king Lady Blanche Lady Psyche light Lilia lines lives Locksley Hall Love's Labour's Lost maid maiden means Melissa Memoriam metaphor MICHAEL MACMILLAN Midsummer Night's Dream moral morning mother Nature night noble note on Prologue o'er Palace Palace of Art passage passion perfect periphrasis phrase Poem Poet Prince Princess Princess Ida reference Richard II Roman rose round scorn seem'd seems sense shadow Shakespeare signifies song soul sound sphere star stood story strong sweet tender Tennyson thee thou thought thro tion trochee verb voice wild wind woman women word دو
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Stran 216 - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair ; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair ; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn ; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
Stran 41 - 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.
Stran 91 - Their thousand wreaths of dangling water-smoke, That like a broken purpose waste in air : So waste not thou ; but come; for all the vales Await thee ; azure pillars of the hearth Arise to thee; the children call, and I Thy shepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet; Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moan of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees.
Stran 215 - Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears : soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold : There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins ; Such harmony is in immortal souls ; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
Stran 139 - All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence ? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key ; As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted ; But yet a union in partition, Two lovely berries moulded on one stem ; So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart : Two of the first, like coats...
Stran 85 - Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die ! Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live; Ask me no more.
Stran 90 - Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white ; Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk ; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font : The fire-fly wakens : waken thou with me. Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost, And like a ghost she glimmers on to me. Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars, And all thy heart lies open unto me.
Stran 41 - Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Stran 215 - Sirens' harmony, That sit upon the nine infolded spheres, And sing to those that hold the vital shears, And turn the adamantine spindle round, On which the fate of Gods and men is wound. Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie, To lull the daughters of Necessity, And keep unsteady Nature to her law, And the low world in measured motion draw After the heavenly tune, which none can hear Of human mould, with gross unpurged ear...
Stran 57 - Thy voice is heard thro* rolling drums, That beat to battle where he stands ; Thy face across his fancy comes, And gives the battle to his hands : A moment, while the trumpets blow, He sees his brood about thy knee ; The next, like fire he meets the foe, And strikes him dead for thine and thee. O Lilia sang : we thought her halfpossess'd, She struck such warbling fury thro...