Stanzas In Memory Of The Author Of ‘Obermann’ (Matthew Arnold Poems)
In front the awful Alpine track Crawls up its rocky stair; The autumn storm-winds drive the rack, Close o'er it, in the air. Behind ...
In front the awful Alpine track Crawls up its rocky stair; The autumn storm-winds drive the rack, Close o'er it, in the air. Behind ...
One morn as through Hyde Park we walk'd,My friend and I, by chance we talk'dOf Lessing's famed Laocooen;And after we awhile ...
IThe evening comes, the fields are still.The tinkle of the thirsty rill,Unheard all day, ascends again;Deserted is the half-mown plain,Silent ...
Four years!--and didst thou stay aboveThe ground, which hides thee now, but four?And all that life, and all that love,Were ...
Saint Brandan sails the northern main;The brotherhood of saints are glad.He greets them once, he sails again;So late!-such storms!-The Saint ...
Thou, who dost dwell alone; Thou, who dost know thine own; Thou, to whom all are known, From the cradle to the grave,-- Save, ...
Set where the upper streams of Simois flowWas the Palladium, high 'mid rock and wood;And Hector was in Ilium, far ...
'Not by the justice that my father spurn'd, Not for the thousands whom my father slew, Altars unfed and temples ...
1 Faster, faster, 2 O Circe, Goddess, 3 Let the wild, thronging train 4 The bright procession 5 Of eddying ...
Glion?--Ah, twenty years, it cuts All meaning from a name! White houses prank where once were huts. Glion, but not ...
The Youth Faster, faster, O Circe, Goddess, Let the wild, thronging train The bright procession Of eddying forms, Sweep through ...
We cannot kindle when we will The fire which in the heart resides; The spirit bloweth and is still, In ...
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless ...
Weary of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel's prow ...
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade ...
Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from ...
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless ...
Strew on her roses, roses, And never a spray of yew! In quiet she reposes; Ah, would that I did ...
A wanderer is man from his birth. He was born in a ship On the breast of the river of ...
In his cool hall, with haggard eyes, The Roman noble lay; He drove abroad, in furious guise, Along the Appian ...
Mist clogs the sunshine. Smoky dwarf houses Hem me round everywhere; A vague dejection Weighs down my soul. Yet, while ...
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all ...
'Twas August, and the fierce sun overhead Smote on the squalid streets of Bethnal Green, And the pale weaver, through ...
I ask not that my bed of death From bands of greedy heirs be free; For these besiege the latest ...
Come, dear children, let us away; Down and away below! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great ...
Who prop, thou ask'st in these bad days, my mind?-- He much, the old man, who, clearest-souled of men, Saw ...
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