The Open Road: A Little Book for WayfarersH. Holt, 1909 - 325 sider |
Fra bogen
Resultater 1-5 af 39
Side 6
... for all un- stinting- God ! For the little brooks that tumble as they run ! Oh , my heart is fain to hear the soft wind blowing , Soughing through the fir - tops up on northern fells ! Oh , my eye's an ache to see the brown 6.
... for all un- stinting- God ! For the little brooks that tumble as they run ! Oh , my heart is fain to hear the soft wind blowing , Soughing through the fir - tops up on northern fells ! Oh , my eye's an ache to see the brown 6.
Side 8
... hear lake - water lapping with low sounds by the shore ; While I stand on the roadway or on the pave- ments gray , I hear it in the deep heart's core . W. B. Yeats . The Invitation BEST EST and brightest , come away , 8.
... hear lake - water lapping with low sounds by the shore ; While I stand on the roadway or on the pave- ments gray , I hear it in the deep heart's core . W. B. Yeats . The Invitation BEST EST and brightest , come away , 8.
Side 38
... hear the confession , Another self , a duplicate of every one , skulking and hiding it goes , Formless and wordless through the streets of the cities , polite and bland in the par- lours , In the cars of railroads , in steamboats , in ...
... hear the confession , Another self , a duplicate of every one , skulking and hiding it goes , Formless and wordless through the streets of the cities , polite and bland in the par- lours , In the cars of railroads , in steamboats , in ...
Side 44
... sticks toward ther elem tree , An ' we can hear birds zing , and zee Upon the boughs the buds o ' spring , Then I don't envy any king , A - vield wi ' health an ' zunsheen . Var then the cowslip's hangèn flow'r , A - wetted 44.
... sticks toward ther elem tree , An ' we can hear birds zing , and zee Upon the boughs the buds o ' spring , Then I don't envy any king , A - vield wi ' health an ' zunsheen . Var then the cowslip's hangèn flow'r , A - wetted 44.
Side 45
... hear our muoan an ' zee our tear , An ' turn our clouds to zunsheen An ' many times , when i da vind Things goo awry , and vo'ke unkind ; To zee the quiet veedèn herds , An ' hear the zingèn o ' the birds , Da still my spurrit muore ...
... hear our muoan an ' zee our tear , An ' turn our clouds to zunsheen An ' many times , when i da vind Things goo awry , and vo'ke unkind ; To zee the quiet veedèn herds , An ' hear the zingèn o ' the birds , Da still my spurrit muore ...
Almindelige termer og sætninger
A. E. Housman Alice Meynell beauty behold birds bliss blow blue boughs breath bright brown clouds dance dark dear delight Dost doth dream E. V. Lucas earth evemen eyes fair flocks flowers fresh GARDEN Gervase Markham Goddés fay grass green grey H. C. Beeching happy hath hear heart heaven Heigh trolollie lollie Jack John Keats Kenneth Grahame kiss land leaves light live look lover Marna Matthew Arnold meadows merry moon morning mountain murmur never night numbers o'er pass Percy Bysshe Shelley Poems river road round sheep Shepherd shine silent sing sleep smiles soft song soul spring stars stream sweet thee ther thine things thou art thought trees trolollie lollie loe voice vrom W. B. Yeats walk wander waves wild William Barnes William Wordsworth wind wood zunny woodlands
Populære passager
Side 102 - I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky ; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores ; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain, The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams, Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.
Side 197 - Where throngs of knights and barons bold In weeds of peace high triumphs hold, With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence, and judge the prize Of wit, or arms, while both contend To win her grace, whom all commend.
Side 231 - Shaped by himself with newly-learned art; A wedding or a festival, A mourning or a funeral; And this hath now his heart, And unto this he frames his song: Then will he fit his tongue To dialogues of business, love, or strife; But it will not be long Ere this be thrown aside, And with new joy and pride The little Actor cons another part; Filling from time to time his "humorous stage...
Side 228 - No more shall grief of mine the season wrong ; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the. fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay ; Land and Sea Give themselves up to jollity...
Side 201 - THE SOLITARY REAPER. BEHOLD her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass ! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass ! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen ! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Side 95 - mid the steep sky's commotion, Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed, Shook from the tangled boughs of heaven and ocean, Angels of rain and lightning ! there are spread On the blue surface of thine airy surge, Like the bright hair uplifted from the head Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge Of the horizon to the zenith's height, The locks of the approaching storm.
Side 55 - For nature then (The coarser pleasures of my boyish days, And their glad animal movements all gone by) To me was all in all. — I cannot paint What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love...
Side 308 - I'd rather be A pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea ; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Side 124 - I'd have you buy and sell so ; so give alms ; Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too : When you do dance, I wish you A wave o...
Side iv - One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can. Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things: — We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art; Close up those barren leaves; Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.