 | Nancy Bogen - 2007 - 426 páginas
...given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like...moves us not. — Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make... | |
 | Robin Malan - 2007 - 316 páginas
...given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like...It moves us not. - Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make... | |
 | Bouck White - 2007 - 325 páginas
...sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that witt be howling at oM hours, And are upgafhered now like sleeping flowers — For this, for everything,...It moves us not. Great God! I'd rather be A pagan, suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,, Have glimpses that would make... | |
 | Stavros Ioannides, Klaus Nielsen - 2007 - 310 páginas
...given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon, The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like...for everything, we are out of tune, It moves us not. (William Wordsworth (2000), from 'The World Is Too Much with Us', p. 270) DISCIPLINARY BOUNDARIES AND... | |
 | Kathryn LaBouff - 2007 - 346 páginas
...given our hearts a way, a sordid boon! The sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like...for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not. — (William Wordsworth, excerpt from "The World Is Too Much with Us") The stressed words that begin... | |
 | Richard Marius - 2006 - 228 páginas
...given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like...flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; lt moves us not. — Great God! l'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might l, standing... | |
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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. 
