Poems (Google eBook)

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Edward Moxon & Co., Dover Street., 1858 - 379 pages
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Page 11 - He cometh not,' she said ; She said, ' I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead...
Page 189 - To whom replied King Arthur, faint and pale: "Thou hast...
Page 275 - I triumph'd, ere my passion sweeping thro' me left me dry, Left me with the palsied heart, and left me with the jaundiced eye ; Eye, to which all order festers, all things here are out of joint, Science moves, but slowly slowly, creeping on from point to point : Slowly comes a hungry people, as a lion, creeping nigher, Glares at one that nods and winks behind a slowly-dying fire. Yet I doubt not thro' the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widen'd with the process of the...
Page 263 - Come, my friends, Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die.
Page 263 - Old age hath yet his honour and his toil; Death closes all : but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
Page 66 - The knights come riding two and two: She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott. But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights, For often thro' the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights, And music, went to Camelot: Or when the moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed: 'I am half sick of shadows,
Page 171 - It is the land that freemen till, That sober-suited Freedom chose. The land, where girt with friends or foes A man may speak the thing he will ; A land of settled government, A land of just and old renown, Where Freedom broadens slowly down From precedent to precedent...
Page 192 - For thou, the latest-left of all my knights, In whom should meet the offices of all, Thou wouldst betray me for the precious hilt; Either from lust of gold, or like a girl Valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes. Yet, for a man may fail in duty twice, And the third time may prosper, get thee hence: But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur, I will arise and slay thee with my hands.
Page 114 - With shadow-streaks of rain. And one, the reapers at their sultry toil. In front they bound the sheaves. Behind Were realms of upland, prodigal in oil, And hoary to the wind.
Page 191 - King Arthur's sword, Excalibur, Wrought by the lonely maiden of the Lake. Nine years she wrought it, sitting in the deeps Upon the hidden bases of the hills.

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