Poems, Volumen2Wiley and Putnam, 1846 - 229 páginas |
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Página 3
... seem'd to speak , So slowly mov'd about , As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out . Our very hopes belied our fears , Our fears our hopes belied— We thought her dying when she slept , And sleeping when she died . For ...
... seem'd to speak , So slowly mov'd about , As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out . Our very hopes belied our fears , Our fears our hopes belied— We thought her dying when she slept , And sleeping when she died . For ...
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... Friends , we still might seem to be , If my wrong could e'er forget Our hands have join'd but not our hearts : I would our hands had never met ! THE POET'S PORTION . WHAT is mine - a treasury 10 HOOD'S POEMS . TO A FALSE FRIEND.
... Friends , we still might seem to be , If my wrong could e'er forget Our hands have join'd but not our hearts : I would our hands had never met ! THE POET'S PORTION . WHAT is mine - a treasury 10 HOOD'S POEMS . TO A FALSE FRIEND.
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... seem , Lest thy true love should rest on a false dream . Her face is smiling , and her voice is sweet ; But smiles betray , and music sings deceit ; And words speak false ; -yet , if they welcome prove , I'll be their echo , and repeat ...
... seem , Lest thy true love should rest on a false dream . Her face is smiling , and her voice is sweet ; But smiles betray , and music sings deceit ; And words speak false ; -yet , if they welcome prove , I'll be their echo , and repeat ...
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... seems we only meet to tear apart With aching hands and lingering of eyes . Alas , alas ! that we must learn hours ' flight By the same light of love that makes them bright ! VI . FOR THE 14TH OF FEBRUARY . No popular 30 HOOD'S POEMS .
... seems we only meet to tear apart With aching hands and lingering of eyes . Alas , alas ! that we must learn hours ' flight By the same light of love that makes them bright ! VI . FOR THE 14TH OF FEBRUARY . No popular 30 HOOD'S POEMS .
Página 33
... seem'd , I never thought a smile could sweetlier play , Nor that so graceful life could chase away Thy graceful death , -till those blue eyes upbeam'd . Now slumber lies in dimpled eddies drown'd , And roses bloom more rosily for joy ...
... seem'd , I never thought a smile could sweetlier play , Nor that so graceful life could chase away Thy graceful death , -till those blue eyes upbeam'd . Now slumber lies in dimpled eddies drown'd , And roses bloom more rosily for joy ...
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Términos y frases comunes
amongst Barbican beauty bird bloom blue breath bright brow called Charles Lamb cheeks clouds cold dark dead dear death deep delight dream Dundee Eugene Aram eyes face fair fairy fancy fear fire flow'rs gaze gentle gloom gold golden green grief hair hand hath head heart heaven HERO AND LEANDER hope human Jean Bertaut Kilmansegg lady leaves light Lincolnshire lips literary living look Lord Lord Byron LYCUS melancholy melodious falls mind Miss moral morning Naiad never night o'er once pale pity poor PUGSLEY raining music rich rose round Saturn shade shadows shine sighs sing Sir Walter Scott sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit sweet tears thee There's thing THOMAS HOOD thou thought trees turn turn'd Twas voice walk wave weep whilst wind wings young yure
Pasajes populares
Página 194 - Oh but to breathe the breath Of the cowslip and primrose sweet, — With the sky above my head, And the grass beneath my feet! For only one short hour To feel as I used to feel, Before I knew the woes of want And the walk that costs a meal!
Página 184 - Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, All that remains of her Now is pure womanly. Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny Rash and undutiful: Past all dishonour Death has left on her Only the beautiful.
Página 185 - Still, for all slips of hers, One of Eve's family — . Wipe those poor lips of hers Oozing so clammily. Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses ; Whilst wonderment guesses Where was her home ? Who was her father ? Who was her mother ? Had she a sister ? Had she a brother ? Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet, than all other ? Alas ! for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun ! Oh ! it was pitiful ! Near a whole city full, Home she had none.
Página 192 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat, in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread — Stitch — stitch — stitch ! In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, — Would that its tone could reach the Rich ! She sang this " Song of the Shirt !
Página 145 - The swallows all have wing'd across the main ; But here the Autumn melancholy dwells, And sighs her tearful spells Amongst the sunless shadows of the plain. Alone, alone, Upon a mossy stone, She sits and reckons up the dead and gone, With the last leaves for a love-rosary...
Página 112 - O'er all there hung a shadow and a fear ; A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is Haunted!
Página 84 - Blessings be with them, and eternal praise, Who gave us nobler loves and nobler cares — The poets who on earth have made us heirs Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays...
Página 71 - Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch Turn, and return, indenting with the way ; Each envious briar his weary legs doth scratch, Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay : For misery is trodden on by many, And being low never relieved by any.
Página 116 - For over all there hung a cloud of fear ; A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is haunted...
Página 186 - Through muddy impurity, As when with the daring Last look of despairing, Fix'd on futurity. Perishing gloomily, Spurr'd by contumely, Cold inhumanity, Burning insanity, Into her rest. — Cross her hands humbly, As if praying dumbly, Over her breast ! Owning her weakness, Her evil behaviour, And leaving, with meekness, Her sins to her Saviour...