The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning: With Two Prose Essays

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H. Milford, Oxford University Press, 1920 - Всего страниц: 667
 

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This was a very decent collection of poetry by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. The Sonnets from the Portuguese was my personal favourite gem and stood as a crowning achievement in her work. There were ... Читать весь отзыв

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Стр. 327 - 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.
Стр. 234 - how long, O cruel nation, Will you stand, to move the world, on a child's heart, Stifle down with a mailed heel its palpitation, And tread onward to your throne amid the mart? Our blood splashes upward, O gold-heaper, And your purple shows your path ! But the child's sob in the silence curses deeper Than the strong man in his wrath.
Стр. 499 - Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God ; But only he who sees, takes off his shoes — The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries, And daub their natural faces unaware More and more from the first similitude.
Стр. 295 - For me, my heart that erst did go Most like a tired child at a show, That sees through tears the mummers leap, Would now its wearied vision close, Would childlike on His love repose, Who giveth His beloved, sleep. And, friends, dear friends, — when it shall be That this low breath is gone from me, And round my bier ye come to weep, Let One, most loving of you all, Say, ' Not a tear must o'er her fall ; ' He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Стр. 234 - And well may the children weep before you! They are weary ere they run; They have never seen the sunshine, nor the glory Which is brighter than the sun. They know the grief of man, without...
Стр. 294 - Sleep soft, beloved !" we sometimes say, But have no tune to charm away Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep. But never doleful dream again. Shall break the happy slumber when He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Стр. 296 - And wrought within his shattered brain such quick poetic senses As hills have language for, and stars, harmonious influences ; The pulse of dew upon the grass kept his within its number, And silent shadows from the trees refreshed him like a slumber.
Стр. 570 - He tore out a reed, the great god Pan, From the deep, cool bed of the river; The limpid water turbidly ran, And the broken lilies a-dying lay, And the dragon-fly had fled away Ere he brought it out of the river.
Стр. 331 - WHAT are we set on earth for ? Say, to toil ; Nor seek to leave thy tending of the vines For all the heat o' the day, till it declines, And Death's mild curfew shall from work assoil. God did anoint thee with His odorous oil, To wrestle, not to reign ; and He assigns All thy tears over, like pure crystallines, For younger fellow-workers of the soil To wear for amulets. So others shall Take patience...
Стр. 215 - He will kiss me on the mouth Then, and lead me as a lover Through the crowds that praise his deeds : And, when soul-tied by one troth Unto him I will discover That swan's nest among the reeds.

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