Firdausi in Exile: And Other Poems |
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ache ANATHOTH Arnkel Astrabad bade beneath bird blue brain breath bright broke cheek cold cool cried Cydippe Cynthius dark dead death deep dream EDMUND GOSSE eyes face faded fair fear feet fell Firdausi flame flashing fled flowers flush flute forget frankincense garden Ghaznin gift gold hair hand heart heaven Hera Herat King LAPWING laughed leaves Lechlade lift light lips loud Mahmoud master's voice Menelaus moon moon bring morning mortal murmured Myron myrrh night o'er Obermann pain pale passed Pausanias Perchance pinnace poet pulse rain Rhadamanthus river rose round sail scarcely seemed sere shaft shallop shining shout sighed silent singing sleep smiled Snorri song soul stir Stoa stood storm stream Sultan sweet Tampico tears tender thee THEOCRITUS Theseus thine thou Thro thy dreaming town verse virgin voice wander warm watch wave weary wind wings wood woodland
Popular passages
Page 151 - WITH A COPY OF HERRICK. FRESH with all airs of woodland brooks And scents of showers, Take to your haunt of holy books This saint of flowers. When meadows burn with budding May, And heaven is blue, Before his shrine our prayers we say,— Saint Robin true. Love crowned with thorns is on his staff,— Thorns of sweet briar ; His benediction is a laugh,
Page ix - fields, Apples that my orchard yields,— Nothing,—for the show they make, Something,—for the donor's sake ; Since for ten years we have been Best of neighbours ever seen ; We have fronted evil weather, Nip of critic's frost, together ; We have shared laborious days, Shared the pleasantness of praise ; Brother not more kind to brother, We have cheered and helped each
Page 148 - eyes Lightened, and thunder ran from cloud to cloud In heaven, and the vast company was hushed. But when they sought for Cleobis, behold He lay there still, and by his brother's side Lay
Page 105 - To God seem vain and poor beside This dumb, sincere reflection. Yet he will die unsought, unknown, A nameless head-stone stand above him, And the vast woodland, vague and lone, Be all that's left to love him.
Page 136 - Yet, surely, when the winds are low, And heaven is all alive with stars, Thy conscious roses still must glow Above thy dreaming nenuphars; They recollect their high estate, The Roman honours they have known, And while they ponder Caesar's fate They cease to marvel at their own.
Page 141 - A stream of red libation drips To great Theocritus. We are in Sicily to-day; And, as the honied metre flows, Battos and Corydon, at play, Will lose the syrinx, gain the rose ; Soft Amaryllis, too, will bind Dark violets round her shining hair, And in the fountain laugh to find Her sun-browned face so fair. We are in Sicily
Page 99 - To whom the old indifferent grey-beard said : '' 'Twas long ago, before my grandsires' days, And he who knew our history best is dead. " But see this dim and grey inscription says:— "That 'Timasitheos, traitor to the state, Lift up with pride and fallen on godless ways, " 'By his fond physical strength intoxicate,
Page 142 - We were the hopeless lovers of the Spring, Too young, as yet, for any love of ours; She is cold, not knowing the tender April showers; Yet have we felt her, as the buried grain May feel the rustle of the unfallen rain; We have known her, as the star that sets too soon Bows to the unseen moon.
Page ix - domain, Stay awhile your passing wain ! Though to give is more your way, Take a gift from me to-day ! From my homely store I bring Signs of my poor husbanding ;— Here a
Page 26 - to glow With morning glory from some holy place Where angels met him in a burning row. XLVIII. His work was done ; the palaces of kings Fade in long rains, and in loud earthquakes fall ; The poem that a godlike poet sings