Greece and Turkey in EuropeHoughton, Mifflin, 1878 |
De dentro do livro
Resultados 1-5 de 31
Página 11
... wild , for other tryst ? Shall we see no sudden faces Strike a glory through the mist ? Not a sound the silence thrills Of the everlasting hills . Pan , Pan is dead . O twelve gods of Plato's vision , Crowned to starry wanderings , With ...
... wild , for other tryst ? Shall we see no sudden faces Strike a glory through the mist ? Not a sound the silence thrills Of the everlasting hills . Pan , Pan is dead . O twelve gods of Plato's vision , Crowned to starry wanderings , With ...
Página 12
... wild hands ? ' Neath the clanging of thy bow , Niobe looked lost as thou ! Pan , Pan is dead . Shall the casque with its brown iron Pallas ' broad blue eyes eclipse , And no hero take inspiring From the God - Greek of her lips ? ' Neath ...
... wild hands ? ' Neath the clanging of thy bow , Niobe looked lost as thou ! Pan , Pan is dead . Shall the casque with its brown iron Pallas ' broad blue eyes eclipse , And no hero take inspiring From the God - Greek of her lips ? ' Neath ...
Página 23
... wild ; Sweet are thy groves , and verdant are thy fields , Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled , And still his honeyed wealth Hymettus yields ; There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds , The freeborn wanderer of thy ...
... wild ; Sweet are thy groves , and verdant are thy fields , Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled , And still his honeyed wealth Hymettus yields ; There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds , The freeborn wanderer of thy ...
Página 31
... wild breath is quivering still ! Yon children chasing the wild bees Have lips as full and fair As Plato had , or Sophocles , When bees sought honey there . But song of bard or sage's lore Those fields ennoble now no more : It is not ...
... wild breath is quivering still ! Yon children chasing the wild bees Have lips as full and fair As Plato had , or Sophocles , When bees sought honey there . But song of bard or sage's lore Those fields ennoble now no more : It is not ...
Página 35
... wild of rocks and hills , Lifted in shadowy cones , and deep between Mysterious hollows , once the proud abodes Of genius and of power . Now twilight throws Around her softest veil , a purple haze Investing all at hand , and farther on ...
... wild of rocks and hills , Lifted in shadowy cones , and deep between Mysterious hollows , once the proud abodes Of genius and of power . Now twilight throws Around her softest veil , a purple haze Investing all at hand , and farther on ...
Termos e frases comuns
Allah ancient Ariadne arms Athens battle BATTLE OF KOSSOVO beauteous beauty beneath blue Bosphorus breast breath bright brow charm clouds CORINTH crown dark death deep divine dream earth eyes fair fame fane Felicia Hemans fled flowers Friedrich von Schiller gaze gleam glorious glory gods gold golden grace grave Grecian Greece Greek hand hath heart heaven Hellas Hellespont HERO AND LEANDER hills hour isle James Gates Percival king Kossovo laha land Letitia Elizabeth Landon light lonely Lord Byron Lord Houghton Marathon mountain mourn Muses Nereid night o'er once pale Pan is dead plain purple rock rolls rose round sacred sail Samian wine shade shore shrine silent sleep smile song soul stood stream sweet tears temple thee Theseus Thessaly thine thou art throne thunder tomb Turk Ulysses vale voice waves wild wind youth
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 39 - Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Página 182 - They fought like brave men, long and well; They piled that ground with Moslem slain; They conquered; but Bozzaris fell, Bleeding at every vein. His few surviving comrades saw His smile when rang their proud hurrah, And the red field was won, Then saw in death his eyelids close, Calmly as to a night's repose— Like flowers at set of sun.
Página 150 - Tis time this heart should be unmoved, Since others it hath ceased to move : Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love ! My days are in the yellow leaf ; The flowers and fruits of love are gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone...
Página 183 - She wore no funeral weeds for thee, Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume, Like torn branch from death's leafless tree, In sorrow's pomp and pageantry, The heartless luxury of the tomb : But she remembers thee as one Long loved and for a season gone. For thee her poets' lyre is wreathed. Her marble wrought, her music breathed : For thee she rings the birthday bells ; Of thee her babes...
Página 167 - Salamis ! Their azure arches, through the long expanse, More deeply purpled meet his mellowing glance, And tenderest tints along their summits driven Mark his gay course, and own the hues of Heaven ; Till darkly shaded from the land, and deep, Behind his Delphian cliff he sinks to sleep.
Página 124 - You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet ; Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one?
Página 125 - Trust not for freedom to the Franks — They have a king who buys and sells : In native swords, and native ranks, The only hope of courage dwells ; But Turkish force, and Latin fraud, Would break your shield, however broad. 15 Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! Our virgins dance beneath the shade...
Página 183 - ... the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free, Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word, And in its hollow tones are heard The thanks of millions yet to be. Come, when his task of fame is wrought— Come, with her laurel-leaf...
Página 181 - Suliote band, True as the steel of their tried blades, Heroes in heart and hand. There had the Persian's...
Página 41 - O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.