Opinião das pessoas - Escrever uma crítica
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Página 26 - All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair — The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing — And Winter slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring! And I the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Página 26 - The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing — And Winter, slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring! And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing. Yet well I ken the banks where amaranths blow, Have traced the fount whence streams of nectar flow. Bloom, O ye amaranths! bloom for whom ye may, For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away!
Página 22 - Fairly began — but finish'd not; And fruitless, late remorse doth trace — Like Hebrew lore a backward pace — Her irrecoverable race. Disjointed numbers; sense unknit Huge reams of folly, shreds of wit; Compose the mingled mass of it. My scalded eyes no longer brook Upon this ink-blurr'd thing to look — Go, shut the leaves, and clasp the book.
Página 140 - twixt Now and Then! This breathing house not built with hands, This body that does me grievous wrong, O'er aery cliffs and glittering sands, How lightly then it flashed along: — Like those trim skiffs, unknown of yore, On winding lakes and rivers wide, That ask no aid of sail or oar, That fear no spite of wind or tide! Nought cared this body for wind or weather When Youth and I lived in't together.
Página 142 - A wild-rose roofs the ruined shed, And that and summer well agree : And lo ! where Mary leans her head, Two dear names carved upon the tree ! And Mary's tears, they are not tears of sorrow...
Página 14 - neath the curtain of translucent dew, Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, Hesperus, with the host of heaven, came ; And lo ! creation widened in man's view.
Página 140 - Tis known, that Thou and I were one, I'll think it but a fond conceit— It cannot be that Thou art gone! Thy vesper-bell hath not yet toll'd:— And thou wert aye a masker bold! What strange disguise hast now put on, To make believe, that thou art gone?
Página 306 - Face of the curled streams, with flow'rs as many As the young spring gives, and as choice as any ; Here be all new delights, cool streams and wells ; Arbours o'ergrown with woodbines, caves and dells ; Choose where thou wilt...
Página xv - With the hare through the copses and dingles wild ! With the butterfly over the heath, fair child ? Yes : the light fall of thy bounding feet Hath not startled the wren from her mossy seat ; Yet hast thou ranged the green forest-dells, And brought back a treasure of buds and bells.