Henry Brocken: His Travels and Adventures in the Rich, Strange, Scarce-imaginable Regions of Romance |
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Annabel Lee Anthea ash tree Atheist awhile beams beauty began beneath bird bright Brocken child Christian cold creature cried Cruelty dark dawn delight Dianeme dim lanterns distant dream dust emerald twilight eyes face faint fear fell fingers flowers garden gay village gazed glanced gloom gone green Gulliver hair hand head heard heart heedless horse hounds Houyhnhnms Jane Eyre journey Julia lids lifted light listened Liveloose looked Lorelei master Mistrust moon neighbour never Nick Bottom night Obstinate once pale passed peace perhaps Pliable Prince Ennui Reverie RICHARD CRASHAW Rochester rose Rosinante seemed shadow shoulder shrill silence sing sleep smiled softly solitary sorrel horses stared stars stood stooping strange stranger Superstition sweet talk tell There's thick thought trees turned twilight Vanity Fair voice watched water-sprite weary wind window woods World's End Yahoo youth
Popular passages
Page v - Gather ye rosebuds while ye may: Old Time is still a-flying, And this same flower that smiles to-day To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he's a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But, being spent, the worse, and worst Times, still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may...
Page ii - With a heart of furious fancies, Whereof I am commander : With a burning spear, And a horse of air, To the wilderness I wander ; With a knight of ghosts and shadows, I summoned am to Tourney : Ten leagues beyond The wide world's end ; Methinks it is no journey...
Page viii - It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee ; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.
Page vii - I dreamed a dream. I dreamed, and behold, I saw a man clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with his face from his own house, a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his back. I looked, and saw him open the book and read therein, and as he read, he wept and trembled, and not being able longer to contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, "What shall I do?
Page vii - Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noontide bee, Shall I nestle near thy side? Wouldst thou me? — And I replied, No, not thee! Death will come when thou art dead, Soon, too soon — Sleep will come when thou art fled; Of neither would I ask the boon I ask of thee, beloved Night— Swift be thine approaching flight, Come soon, soon!
Page vii - I see a lily on thy brow With anguish moist and fever dew, And on thy cheeks a fading rose Fast withereth too. I met a lady in the meads, Full beautiful— a faery's child, Her hair was long, her foot was light, And her eyes were wild. '* I...
Page v - Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray: And, when I crossed the wild, I chanced to see at break of day The solitary child. No mate, no comrade Lucy knew; She dwelt on a wide moor, — The sweetest thing that ever grew Beside a human door! You yet may spy the fawn at play, The hare upon the green; But the sweet face of Lucy Gray Will never more be seen. "To-night will be a stormy night — You to the town must go...
Page 171 - Our gude ship sails the morn." " Now ever alake, my master dear, I fear a deadly storm ! " I saw the new moon, late yestreen, Wi' the auld moon in her arm ; And if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm.
Page vi - Favourite ; for I feel my Spirits revived by the Smell he contracts in the Stable. My Horses understand me tolerably well ; I converse with them at least four Hours every Day.
Page vi - Holy-oak or Gospel-tree, Where, though thou see'st not, thou may'st think upon Me, when thou yearly go'st procession ; Or, for mine honour, lay me in that tomb In which thy sacred relics shall have room. For my embalming, sweetest, there will be No spices wanting when I'm laid by thee.