The BibelotThomas Bird Mosher Thomas B. Mosher, 1904 |
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Página 21
... hills that call each other thro ' the night , The stars that sing of silence , the trees of light , I knew ! I knew ! " Thy brethren they , " He saith . There came a sister soon , meek Sister Death . CORSO . I had the fire - streak'd ...
... hills that call each other thro ' the night , The stars that sing of silence , the trees of light , I knew ! I knew ! " Thy brethren they , " He saith . There came a sister soon , meek Sister Death . CORSO . I had the fire - streak'd ...
Página 53
... Hills . 3 , The Duchess of Nona . 4 , Messer Cino and the Live Coal . 5 , The Judgment of Borso . 7 . THE LIFE AND DEATH OF RICHARD YEA - AND- NAY . LONDON , 1900 . Crown 8vo . Cloth . 8 . NEW CANTERBURY TALES . WESTMINSTER , [ Lon- DON ] ...
... Hills . 3 , The Duchess of Nona . 4 , Messer Cino and the Live Coal . 5 , The Judgment of Borso . 7 . THE LIFE AND DEATH OF RICHARD YEA - AND- NAY . LONDON , 1900 . Crown 8vo . Cloth . 8 . NEW CANTERBURY TALES . WESTMINSTER , [ Lon- DON ] ...
Página 64
... his devotion to those Mothers of Sorrows . And at the last one thinks of him dead in two lines from a poem of his own : - He hath a glory from that Sun Who falls not from Olympus hill . K. H. PLATO IN LONDON . To Campbell Dodgson . THE ' ...
... his devotion to those Mothers of Sorrows . And at the last one thinks of him dead in two lines from a poem of his own : - He hath a glory from that Sun Who falls not from Olympus hill . K. H. PLATO IN LONDON . To Campbell Dodgson . THE ' ...
Página 75
... wear , But death's perfection of that hue . Nay ! now the rivalry is done , Of red , and white , and whiter still : She hath a glory from that sun , Who falls not from Olympus hill . 1893 . PARNELL . To John McGrath . HE wail of Irish 75.
... wear , But death's perfection of that hue . Nay ! now the rivalry is done , Of red , and white , and whiter still : She hath a glory from that sun , Who falls not from Olympus hill . 1893 . PARNELL . To John McGrath . HE wail of Irish 75.
Página 87
... Hill of Howth , And sunlight on the Golden Spears , And sunlight upon Dublin Bay . In hunger of the heart I loathe These happy fields : I turn with tears Of love and longing , far away : To where the heathered Hill of Howth Stands ...
... Hill of Howth , And sunlight on the Golden Spears , And sunlight upon Dublin Bay . In hunger of the heart I loathe These happy fields : I turn with tears Of love and longing , far away : To where the heathered Hill of Howth Stands ...
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Termos e frases comuns
50 cents antique boards antique boards including arter BACK NUMBERS BALDOCK BALDOCK BLACK HORSE BALLADE Barney McGee beauty BiBelof boards including title breast breath chant child CHORUS Current numbers Five dark dear death dream earth eyes FIONA MACLEOD Five cents 1904 Florence flowers golden green heart Here's Hermit less per volume LIONEL JOHNSON looked Lucretius Mary's child MAURICE HEWLETT MDCCCCIV Midsummer days MONTHLY Current numbers mother Niccola Pisano night nivver numbers Five cents pass PERCIVAL STOCKDALE POEMS IN PROSE poet PUBLISHED MONTHLY Current Reprint of Poetry ROSAMUND MARRIOTT WATSON ROSES OF PAESTUM RUNNING WATER säa SEA-MAGIC AND RUNNING silence sing sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit spring star Subscribers are recommended SUBSCRIPTIONS for 1904 sweet thee thine things thou did'st thou hast voice Whitman wild WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY wind yeou young youth
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 403 - THE sea is calm to-night. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits; on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Página 232 - In the swamp in secluded recesses, A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song, Solitary the thrush, The hermit withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements, Sings by himself a song. Song of the bleeding throat, Death's outlet song of life (for well dear brother I know, If thou wast not granted to sing thou would'st surely die...
Página 237 - With the fresh sweet herbage under foot, and the pale green leaves of the trees prolific, In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the...
Página 245 - My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult O shores, and ring O bells! But I with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
Página 405 - WE cannot kindle when we will The fire which in the heart resides ; The spirit bloweth and is still, In mystery our soul abides.
Página 231 - WHEN lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd, And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night, I mourn'd, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring. Ever-returning spring, trinity sure to me you bring, Lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west, And thought of him I love.
Página 243 - ... hands, Passing the song of the hermit bird and the tallying song of my soul, Victorious song, death's outlet song, yet varying ever-altering song, As low and wailing, yet clear the notes, rising and falling, flooding the night, Sadly sinking and fainting, as warning and warning, and yet again bursting with joy, Covering the earth and filling the spread of the heaven, As that powerful psalm in the night I heard from recesses, Passing, I leave thee lilac with heart-shaped leaves, I leave thee there...
Página 241 - From me to thee glad serenades, Dances for thee I propose saluting thee, adornments and feastings for thee, And the sights of the open landscape and the high-spread sky are fitting, And life and the fields, and the huge and thoughtful night.
Página 412 - How he would pour himself in every strife, And well-nigh change his own identity; That it might keep from his capricious play His genuine self, and force him to obey Even in his own despite, his being's law, Bade, through the deep recesses of our breast The unregarded river of our life Pursue with indiscernible flow its way; And that we should not see The buried stream, and seem to be Eddying about in blind uncertainty, Though driving on with it eternally.
Página 236 - O how shall I warble myself for the dead one there I loved? And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone? And what shall my perfume be for the grave of him I love?