Obermann Once More (Matthew Arnold Poem)
Glion?--Ah, twenty years, it cuts All meaning from a name! White houses prank where once were huts. Glion, but not ...
Glion?--Ah, twenty years, it cuts All meaning from a name! White houses prank where once were huts. Glion, but not ...
Through the black, rushing smoke-bursts, Thick breaks the red flame; All Etna heaves fiercely Her forest-clothed frame. Not here, O ...
How changed is here each spot man makes or fills! In the two Hinkseys nothing keeps the same; The village ...
One lesson, Nature, let me learn of thee, One lesson which in every wind is blown, One lesson of two ...
The Youth Faster, faster, O Circe, Goddess, Let the wild, thronging train The bright procession Of eddying forms, Sweep through ...
Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from ...
'Tis death! and peace, indeed, is here, And ease from shame, and rest from fear. There's nothing can dismarble now ...
A region desolate and wild. Black, chafing water: and afloat, And lonely as a truant child In a waste wood, ...
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 ...
Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Greece, Long since, saw Byron's struggle cease. But one such death remain'd to come; The ...
Go, for they call you, shepherd, from the hill; Go, shepherd, and untie the wattled cotes! No longer leave thy ...
We were apart; yet, day by day, I bade my heart more constant be. I bade it keep the world ...
This is a word we use to plug holes with. It's the right size for those warm blanks in speech, ...
Marriage is not a house or even a tent it is before that, and colder: The edge of the forest, ...
The truest friends, how few they are. Still time, it seems, must take them far to God knows where and ...
It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom ...
I. Where the quiet-coloured end of evening smiles, Miles and miles On the solitary pastures where our sheep Half-asleep Tinkle ...
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun Coral is far more red than her lips’ red, If snow be ...
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I ...
Bury thy sorrows, and they shall rise As souls to the immortal skies, And there look down like mothers' eyes. ...
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