Poetry Review, Volume 6

Capa
Stephen Phillips, Galloway Kyle
Poetry Society, 1915
 

Outras edições - Ver tudo

Palavras e frases frequentes

Passagens conhecidas

Página 412 - If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam. A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by the suns of home.
Página 326 - PIPING down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: 'Pipe a song about a lamb.' So I piped with merry cheer; 'Piper, pipe that song again.
Página 104 - His steps are not upon thy paths, — thy fields Are not a spoil for him, — thou dost arise And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction, thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And sendst him, shivering in thy playful spray, And howling to his gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth; there let him lay.
Página 325 - I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut, And 'Thou shalt not...
Página 324 - Never seek to tell thy love, Love that never told can be ; For the gentle wind does move Silently, invisibly. I told my love, I told my love, I told her all my heart ; Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears, Ah ! she doth depart. Soon as she was gone from me, A traveller came by, Silently, invisibly : He took her with a sigh.
Página 560 - ... his part, Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage, Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart, So I, for fear of trust, forget to say The perfect ceremony of love's rite, And in mine own love's strength seem to decay, O'ercharged with burden of mine own love's might.
Página 112 - Her lips suck forth my soul : see, where it flies! Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena.
Página 325 - Can a mother sit and hear An infant groan, an infant fear? No, no! never can it be! Never, never can it be! And can He who smiles on all Hear the wren with sorrows small, Hear the small bird's grief and care, Hear the woes that infants...
Página 113 - Had fed the feeling of their masters' thoughts, And every sweetness that inspir'd their hearts, Their minds, and muses on admired themes; If all the heavenly quintessence they still From their immortal flowers of poesy, Wherein, as in a mirror, we perceive The highest reaches of a human wit; If these had made one poem's period, And all combin'd in beauty's worthiness, Yet should there hover in their restless heads One thought, one grace, one wonder, at the least, Which into words no virtue can digest.
Página 418 - Honour has come back, as a king, to earth, And paid his subjects with a royal wage; And Nobleness walks in our ways again; And we have come into our heritage.

Informação bibliográfica