Swinburne and Landor: A Study of Their Spiritual Relationship and Its Effect on Swinburne's Moral and Poetic Development

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Macmillan and Company, Limited, 1918 - 304 psl.
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Populiarios ištraukos

217 psl. - I will go back to the great sweet mother, Mother and lover of men, the sea. I will go down to her, I and none other, Close with her, kiss her and mix her with me...
155 psl. - We are what suns and winds and waters make us The mountains are our sponsors, and the rills Fashion and win their nursling with their smiles. But where the land is dim from tyranny, There tiny pleasures occupy the place Of glories and of duties ; as the feet Of fabled faeries when the sun goes down Trip o'er the grass where wrestlers strove by day.
117 psl. - O spirit that man's life left pure, Man's death set free, Not with disdain of days that were Look earthward now ; Let dreams revive the reverend hair, The imperial brow ; Come back in sleep, for in the life Where thou art not We find none like thee. Time and strife And the world's lot Move thee no more ; but love at least And reverent heart May move thee, royal and released, Soul, as thou art.
282 psl. - Among the clicking coals. Our library-bower That eve was left to us: and hushed we sat As lovers to whom Time is whispering. From sudden-opened doors we heard them sing: The nodding elders mixed good wine with chat. Well knew we that Life's greatest treasure lay With us, and of it was our talk.
18 psl. - tis and ever was my wish and way To let all flowers live freely, and all die (Whene'er their Genius bids their souls depart) Among their kindred in their native place. I never pluck the rose ; the violet's head Hath shaken with my breath upon its bank And not reproached me ; the ever-sacred cup Of the pure lily hath between my hands Felt safe, unsoiled, nor lost one grain of gold.
149 psl. - But when God commands to take the trumpet, and blow a dolorous or a jarring blast, it lies not in man's will what he shall say, or what he shall conceal.
188 psl. - Thou and I and he are not gods made men for a span, But God, if a God there be, is the substance of men which is man. Our lives are as pulses or pores of his manifold body and breath ; As waves of his sea on the shores where birth is the beacon of death.
119 psl. - We too have tracked by star-proof trees The tempest of the Thyiades Scare the loud night on hills that hid The blood-feasts of the Bassarid, Heard their song's iron cadences Fright the wolf hungering from the kid, Outroar the lion-throated seas, Outchide the north-wind if it chid, And hush the torrent-tongued ravines With thunders of their tambourines.
110 psl. - Yet, Jenny, looking long at you, The woman almost fades from view. A cipher of man's changeless sum Of lust, past, present, and to come Is left. A riddle that one shrinks To challenge from the scornful sphinx.
62 psl. - BETWEEN the green bud and the red Youth sat and sang by Time, and shed From eyes and tresses flowers and tears, From heart and spirit hopes and fears, Upon the hollow stream whose bed Is channelled by the foamless years; And with the white the gold-haired head Mixed running locks, and in Time's ears Youth's dreams hung singing, and Time's truth Was half not harsh in the ears of Youth.

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