طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
arms beauty behold Beowulf blood born brave called Connla Cuchulainn dear death doth dread Dyved earth eyes fair fame fate father fear fire Gawain Geats give glory gold grace Grendel Gwawl hand happy hast hath head Healfdene hear heard heart Heaven Heorot honour Hrothgar Hygelac king King Arthur kynge lady land light live look lord mighty mind Muse nature ne'er never night noble nymph o'er Ongentheow pain pleasure praise pride prince Pwyll Queen quoth rest round sayd Scyldings Scylfings sing Sir Bedivere Sir Lucan Sir Mordred sleep song sorrow soul spirit stood sweet sword tears tell thane thee ther thine things thou art thought truth unto virtue warriors ween whan wind wise wolde words wyll wyllowe youth
الصفحة 582 - Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely Contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
الصفحة 676 - Is lightened ; that serene and blessed mood In which the affections gently lead us on, Until the breath of this corporeal frame, And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul; While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
الصفحة 581 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn. Or busy housewife ply her evening care; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
الصفحة 280 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night...
الصفحة 283 - Coral is far more red than her lips' red: If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she...
الصفحة 569 - Far, far away, thy children leave the land. 50 111 fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates and men decay: Princes and lords may flourish or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed, can never be supplied.
الصفحة 677 - Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things.
الصفحة 690 - A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet ; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food : For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
الصفحة 281 - Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But sad mortality o'ersways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
الصفحة 342 - That to the faithful herdsman's art belongs! What recks it them ? What need they ? They are sped ; And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw ; The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, But swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread ; Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said. But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.