¨Ò¡´éÒ¹ã¹Ë¹Ñ§Ê×Í

©ºÑºÍ×è¹æ - ´Ù·Ñé§ËÁ´

¤ÓáÅÐÇÅÕ·Õ辺ºèÍÂ

º·¤ÇÒÁ·Õèà»ç¹·Õè¹ÔÂÁ

˹éÒ 154 - ... Lean-headed Eagles yelp alone, and leave The monstrous ledges there to slope, and spill Their thousand wreaths of dangling water-smoke, That like a broken purpose waste in air : So waste not thou ; but come ; for all the vales Await thee; azure pillars of the hearth Arise to thee ; the children call, and I Thy shepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet; Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moan of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of...
˹éÒ 195 - All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good shall exist; Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor good, nor power Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist When eternity affirms the conception of an hour. The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard; Enough that he heard it once: we shall hear it by and by.
˹éÒ 195 - More and more mankind will discover that we have to turn to poetry to interpret life for us, to console us, to sustain us. Without poetry, our science will appear incomplete; and most of what now passes with us for religion and philosophy will be replaced by poetry.
˹éÒ 98 - Because all I haply can and do, All that I am now, all I hope to be, — Whence comes it save from fortune setting free Body and soul the purpose to pursue, God traced for both ? If fetters, not a few, Of prejudice, convention, fall from me, These shall I bid men — each in his degree Also God-guided — bear, and gayly, too ? But little do or can the best of us : That little is achieved through Liberty.
˹éÒ 196 - Great, valiant, pious, good, and clean, Sublime, contemplative, serene, Strong, constant, pleasant, wise! Bright effluence of exceeding grace; Best man! the swiftness and the race, The peril and the prize!
˹éÒ 168 - Never to reach the ultimate, angels' law, Indulging every instinct of the soul There where law, life, joy, impulse are one thing!
˹éÒ 66 - That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea. Then star nor sun shall waken, Nor any change of light: Nor sound of waters shaken, Nor any sound or sight : Nor wintry leaves nor vernal, Nor days nor things diurnal; Only the sleep eternal In an eternal night.
˹éÒ 190 - So you creak it, and I want the heart to scold. Dear dead women, with such hair, too — what's become of all the gold Used to hang and brush their bosoms ? I feel chilly and grown OLD PICTURES IN FLORENCE.
˹éÒ 188 - ... cheeks so round and lips so red, — On her neck the small face buoyant, like a bell-flower on its bed, O'er the breast's superb abundance where a man might base his head?
˹éÒ 162 - I but open my eyes, — and perfection, no more and no less, In the kind I imagined, full-fronts me, and God is seen God In the star, in the stone, in the flesh, in the soul and the clod.

ºÃóҹءÃÁ