The Works of Matthew Arnold, Volumen2Macmillan, 1903 |
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Página 8
... stream ; Up the steep street I hurried fast , Led by thy taper's starlike beam . I came ! I saw thee rise ! -the blood Pour'd flushing to thy languid cheek . Lock'd in each other's arms we stood , In tears , with hearts too full to ...
... stream ; Up the steep street I hurried fast , Led by thy taper's starlike beam . I came ! I saw thee rise ! -the blood Pour'd flushing to thy languid cheek . Lock'd in each other's arms we stood , In tears , with hearts too full to ...
Página 16
... stream ! —and do I linger here ? The clouds are on the Oberland , The Jungfrau snows look faint and far ; But bright are those green fields at hand , And through those fields comes down the Aar , And from the blue twin - lakes it comes ...
... stream ! —and do I linger here ? The clouds are on the Oberland , The Jungfrau snows look faint and far ; But bright are those green fields at hand , And through those fields comes down the Aar , And from the blue twin - lakes it comes ...
Página 25
... streams , Where red - berried ashes fringe The clear - brown shallow pools , With streaming flanks , and heads Rear'd proudly , snuffing The mountain wind . They see the Indian Drifting , knife in hand , His frail boat moor'd to A ...
... streams , Where red - berried ashes fringe The clear - brown shallow pools , With streaming flanks , and heads Rear'd proudly , snuffing The mountain wind . They see the Indian Drifting , knife in hand , His frail boat moor'd to A ...
Página 26
... stream ; -thereon , With snort and strain , Two horses , strongly swimming , tow The ferry - boat , with woven ropes To either bow Firm harness'd by the mane ; a chief , With shout and shaken spear , Stands at the prow , and guides them ...
... stream ; -thereon , With snort and strain , Two horses , strongly swimming , tow The ferry - boat , with woven ropes To either bow Firm harness'd by the mane ; a chief , With shout and shaken spear , Stands at the prow , and guides them ...
Página 28
... stream Alcmena's dreadful son Ply his bow ; -such a price The Gods exact for song : To become what we sing . They see the Indian On his mountain lake ; but squalls Make their skiff reel , and worms In the unkind spring have gnawn Their ...
... stream Alcmena's dreadful son Ply his bow ; -such a price The Gods exact for song : To become what we sing . They see the Indian On his mountain lake ; but squalls Make their skiff reel , and worms In the unkind spring have gnawn Their ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Æpytus Arcadian Arcas Argos Aristodemus Aristomachus arms Behold blood blow breast breath bright bring Callicles Callisto calm child Chorus comes Cresphontes Cypselus dare dark dead death deed deep divine Dorian Dorian lords dost doth earth Echemus Empedocles Epytus Etna Eurystheus eyes fair Fate father fear feel gloom glow Gods grave hand hate hath hear heard heart Heaven Heracleida Heracles hills Hyllus Iacchus king Laias light live look'd Melanthus Merope Thou Messenian mind mother mountain murder night o'er once pain palace pass'd Pausanias peace Pelasgus Pelops plain Polyphontes prince Queen race seem'd sleep smile soul spring stand stars stream strife sweet Tegea Temenus Thebes thee thine things thou art thou hast thought throne thyself tomb vengeance voice wilt wind word youth Zeus
Pasajes populares
Página 102 - With aching hands and bleeding feet We dig and heap, lay stone on stone ; We bear the burden and the heat Of the long day, and wish 'twere done. Not till the hours of light return, All we have built do we discern.
Página 39 - That wild, unquench d, deep-sunken, old-world pain — Say, will it never heal ? And can this fragrant lawn With its cool trees, and night, And the sweet, tranquil Thames, And moonshine, and the dew, To thy rack'd heart and brain Afford no balm ? Dost thou to-night behold, Here, through the moonlight on this English grass...
Página 59 - But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world. Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant...
Página 28 - They see the Centaurs On Pelion: — then they feel, They too, the maddening wine Swell their large veins to bursting: in wild pain They feel the biting spears Of the grim...
Página 276 - Far, far from here, The Adriatic breaks in a warm bay Among the green Illyrian hills ; and there The sunshine in the happy glens is fair, And by the sea, and in the brakes. The grass is cool, the sea-side air Buoyant and fresh, the mountain flowers More virginal and sweet than ours.
Página 39 - PHILOMELA HARK ! ah, the Nightingale ! The tawny-throated ! Hark ! from that moonlit cedar what a burst ! What triumph ! hark — what pain ! O Wanderer from a Grecian shore, Still, after many years, in distant lands, Still nourishing in thy bewilder'd brain That wild, unquench'd, deep-sunken, old-world pain—- Say, will it never heal...
Página 58 - Sophocles long ago Heard it on the Aegean, and it brought Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow Of human misery; we Find also in the sound a thought, Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
Página 100 - WEARY of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea. And a look of passionate desire O'er the sea and to the stars I send : ' Ye who from my childhood up have calm'd me, Calm me, ah, compose me to the end ! * Ah, once more...
Página 58 - DOVER BEACH THE sea is calm to-night. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits ; — on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone ; the cliffs of England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Página 59 - The sea of faith Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd. But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating to the breath Of the night-wind down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world, To one another!