The Poetical Works of Edward Rowland SillHoughton, Mifflin, 1906 - 423 pages |
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Page 5
... brain . From far - off church - towers , distance - muffled bells Are slowly tolling dying midnight's age . A surging wind sighs through the shadowy trees , Like surf that breaks on an invisible beach , And sends a spray of whispers on ...
... brain . From far - off church - towers , distance - muffled bells Are slowly tolling dying midnight's age . A surging wind sighs through the shadowy trees , Like surf that breaks on an invisible beach , And sends a spray of whispers on ...
Page 24
... brain forever at work Webbing out its mite of a plan , Each hypocritical face with smile and smirk , Thinking to mask its spleen from another man : And then the apish mummery Of the thing they call Society ! And its poor , sour fools ...
... brain forever at work Webbing out its mite of a plan , Each hypocritical face with smile and smirk , Thinking to mask its spleen from another man : And then the apish mummery Of the thing they call Society ! And its poor , sour fools ...
Page 29
... brain to trouble itself ? Threescore years is swiftly worn away — In some summer when our heads are gray , We perhaps shall wander back from our power or pelf , To muse on the days when all these things befell . Nothing will then be ...
... brain to trouble itself ? Threescore years is swiftly worn away — In some summer when our heads are gray , We perhaps shall wander back from our power or pelf , To muse on the days when all these things befell . Nothing will then be ...
Page 54
... brain Made to knit cunning nets of politics Or sharpen down to insignificance On the grinding wheels of business , but a Soul , That travelling higher worlds in upper light Dips down through bodily contact into this ; As a hand trails ...
... brain Made to knit cunning nets of politics Or sharpen down to insignificance On the grinding wheels of business , but a Soul , That travelling higher worlds in upper light Dips down through bodily contact into this ; As a hand trails ...
Page 55
... brain to seek new dalliance , fresh delight , Forgetful of his throne beyond the Sea . Content with the golden Present , now , they say , We must pore in the past no longer ; our old books , And antique , moss - grown system must give ...
... brain to seek new dalliance , fresh delight , Forgetful of his throne beyond the Sea . Content with the golden Present , now , they say , We must pore in the past no longer ; our old books , And antique , moss - grown system must give ...
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Common terms and phrases
ÆNEID amber air azure beauty beneath bird bloom blossoms blue brain breast breath bright calm child CLOCKS OF GNOSTER-TOWN cloud dark dawn dead deep dream drowsy earth EDWARD ROWLAND SILL eyes face fading fair feel my mind feet floating flowers foam gaunt rock gleam glimmering gloom gold golden grass gray hand hast hath hear heart heaven HERMITAGE high quest hollow hope hour hush Hush sounds light lips little hour live lonely look moon morning never night Norns o'er ocean gates PHILLIPS EXETER ACADEMY Proud youth pure Pygmalion quiet RUBY HEART seems shadow shining silent sing sleep smile snow soft song soul spirit stand stars stir summer sweet tears tell thee thine things thought thrush toss touch trees unto voice wait warm watch waves weary whispers wild wind wings wonder WORLD RUNS ROUND
Popular passages
Page 275 - The jester doffed his cap and bells, And stood the mocking court before; , They could not see the bitter smile Behind the painted grin he wore. He bowed his head, and bent his knee Upon the monarch's silken stool; His pleading voice arose: "O Lord, Be merciful to me, a fool!
Page 276 - Tis not by guilt the onward sweep Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay ; 'Tis by our follies that so long We hold the earth from heaven away. " These clumsy feet, still in the mire, Go crushing blossoms without end ; These hard, well-meaning hands we thrust Among the heart-strings of a friend.
Page 277 - THIS I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream : — There spread a cloud of dust along a plain ; And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince's banner Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes. A craven hung along the battle's edge, And thought, " Had I a sword of keener steel — That blue blade that the king's son bears, — but this Blunt thing — ! " he snapt and flung it from his hand, And lowering crept away...
Page 213 - To float into their hearts my last warm word, Before I go. " I would be satisfied if I might tell, Before I go, That one warm word, how I have loved them well, Could they but know!
Page 343 - On a trefoil two shadow - spears that cross, Three grasses that toss up their nodding heads, With spring and curve like clustered fountain-threads, — • Suddenly, through 'side windows of the eye, Deep solitudes, where never souls have met; Vast spaces, forest corridors that lie In a mysterious world, unpeopled yet. Because the outward eye elsewhere was caught, The awfulness and wonder come unsought.
Page 359 - TEMPTED. YEs, I know what you say: Since it cannot be soul to soul, Be it flesh to flesh, as it may; But is Earth the whole ? Shall a man betray the Past For all Earth gives? But the Past is dead " ? At last, It is all that lives.
Page 292 - Thou art the love celestial, seeking still The soul beneath the form ; the serene will ; The wisdom, of whose deeps the sages dream ; The unseen beauty that doth faintly gleam In stars, and flowers, and waters where they roll ; The unheard music whose faint echoes even Make whosoever hears a homesick soul Thereafter, till he follow it to heaven.
Page 236 - Has Time grown sleepy at his post, And let the exiled Summer back, Or is it her regretful ghost, Or witchcraft of the almanac ? While wandering breaths of mignonette In at the open window come, I send my thoughts afar, and let Them paint your Christmas Day at home. Glitter of ice, and glint of frost, And sparkles in the crusted snow; And hark! the dancing sleigh-bells, tost The faster as they fainter grow. The creaking footsteps hurry past; The quick breath dims the frosty air; And down the crisp...
Page 309 - THE LOVER'S SONG LEND me thy fillet, Love! I would no longer see: Cover mine eyelids close awhile, And make me blind like thee. Then might I pass her sunny face, And know not it was fair; Then might I hear her voice, nor guess Her starry eyes were there. Ah! banished so from stars and sun — Why need it be my fate? If only she might dream me good And wise, and be my mate! Lend her thy fillet, Love! Let her no longer see : If there is hope for me at all, She must be blind like thee. Edward Rowland...
Page 226 - t was gone ; the leaf was dry. The little ghost of an inaudible squeak Was lost to the frog that goggled from his stone ; Who, at the huge, slow tread of a thoughtful ox Coming to drink, stirred sideways fatly, plunged, Launched backward twice, and all the pool was still.