Was andere dazu sagen - Rezension schreiben
Es wurden keine Rezensionen gefunden.
angels beauty beneath blood born breath bright child cloud cold comes dark dead dear death deep dream earth eternal eyes face fair faith fall fear fell flowers friends gave give glory gold golden gone grave green hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills holy hope hour human land leaves light lips live look morn mother never night o'er once pain pale pass past praise rest rose round seemed seen side sigh sight silent sing sleep slowly smile song sorrow soul sound spirit stand stars stood strange sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought Toll took tree true truth turned voice wave weep wild wind wings wonder young youth
Seite 23 - Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod.
Seite 23 - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth...
Seite 300 - If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
Seite 219 - Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life ! — and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
Seite 423 - for Aix is in sight!" " How they'll greet us !" — and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone ; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets
Seite 424 - twas all one! My favor at her breast, The dropping of the daylight in the West, The bough of cherries some officious fool Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule She rode with round the terrace— all and each Would draw from her alike the approving speech, Or blush, at least.
Seite 306 - Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven ; that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Seite 308 - I dipped into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be; Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails, Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales; Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rained a ghastly dew From the nations...
Seite 306 - As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains: but every hour is saved From that eternal silence, something more, A bringer of new things; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself, And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
Seite 446 - Once more he stept into the street, And to his lips again Laid his long pipe of smooth, straight cane; And ere he blew three notes (such sweet Soft notes as yet musician's cunning Never gave the enraptured air), There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling, Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling, Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering. Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering, And like fowls in a farmyard when barley is scattering Out came the children running:...