[ عذرًا، محتوى هذه الصفحة مقيَّد ]

...complete a success? " A still salt pool, locked in with bars of sand ; Left on the shore ; that hears all night The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters white." Tennyson delights in a garden. Its groups, and walks, and mingled bloom intoxicate him, and us through...

...for one sure goal. A still salt pool, lock'd in with bars of sand ; Left on the shore ; that hears all night The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters white. A star that with the choral starry dance Join'd not, but stood, and standing saw The hollow orb of...

...these excellences. " A still, salt pool, locked in with bars of sand, Left on the shore ; which hears all night The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters while." PHILIP. That is one of the most perfect images in any language, and as a picture of a soul...

...for one sure goal. A still salt pool, lock'd in with bars of sand ; Left on the shore ; that hears all night The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters white. A star that with the choral starry dance Join'd not, but stood, and standing saw The hollow orb of...

...of rain." ***** " A still salt pool, lock'd in with bars of sand, Left on the shore — that hears all night The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters white." * * * * • " As in strange lands a traveler walking slow, In doubt and great perplexity, A little...

...for one sure goal. " A still salt pool, locked in with bars of sand ; Left on the shore ; that hears all night The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters white. " A star that with the choral starry dance Joined not, but stood, and standing saw The hollow orb of...

...Or power of movement, seem'd my soul, 'Mid onward-sloping motions infinite Making for one sure goal. The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters white. A star that with the choral starry dance Join'd not, but stood, and standing saw The hollow orb of...

...Making for one sure goal. A still salt pool, lock'd in with bars of sand, Left on the shore, that hears all night The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters white. Remaining utterly confused with fears, And ever worse with growing time, And ever unrelieved by dismal...

...influence of mild-minded melancholy To muse and brood, and live again in memory. TENNYSON. That hears all night The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters white. TENNYSON. And the great sea-waves below, Pulse o' the midnight, beating slow. WHITTIEH. CONTENTS. PRELUDE...