Poems, Volume 2E. Moxon, 1846 |
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Page 61
... grow between me and my book : With colt - like whinny and with hoggish whine They burst my prayer . Yet this way was left And by this way I ' scaped them . Mortify Your flesh , like me , with scourges and with thorns ; Smite , shrink ...
... grow between me and my book : With colt - like whinny and with hoggish whine They burst my prayer . Yet this way was left And by this way I ' scaped them . Mortify Your flesh , like me , with scourges and with thorns ; Smite , shrink ...
Page 137
... grow up that bear his name , Some grow to honour , some to shame , - But he is chill to praise or blame . 66 He will not hear the north - wind rave , Nor , moaning , household shelter crave From winter rains that beat his grave . 66 ...
... grow up that bear his name , Some grow to honour , some to shame , - But he is chill to praise or blame . 66 He will not hear the north - wind rave , Nor , moaning , household shelter crave From winter rains that beat his grave . 66 ...
Page 165
... grown to more , On secrets of the brain , the stars , As wild as aught of fairy lore ; And all that else the years will show , The Poet - forms of stronger hours , The vast Republics that may grow , The Federations and the Powers ...
... grown to more , On secrets of the brain , the stars , As wild as aught of fairy lore ; And all that else the years will show , The Poet - forms of stronger hours , The vast Republics that may grow , The Federations and the Powers ...
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Alice the nurse answer'd beggar maid beneath betwixt blow bold Sir Bedivere bore born breast breath cheek child Cophetua crag dark death dipt Dora dream dropt earth Edward Gray Ellen Adair Excalibur eyes fair fancy flower folded gate golden gone grew hand happy hast hear heard heart Heaven hope hour jaundice King Arthur kiss kiss'd knees Lady Clare land last embrace laugh'd light lightly lips live Locksley Hall look look'd Lord Ronald moon moorland morn never night o'er pass'd praise QUEEN GUINEVERE replied rose round saints seem'd shade SIMEON STYLITES SIR LAUNCELOT sleep song soul sound spake speak stars stept summer sweet thee thine things thou art thought thrice thro thy dreams touch'd truth turn'd unto vapour Vext village maid voice whisper wife wind wither'd wonder words