The Voice (Matthew Arnold Poem)
As the kindling glances, Queen-like and clear, Which the bright moon lances From her tranquil sphere At the sleepless waters ...
As the kindling glances, Queen-like and clear, Which the bright moon lances From her tranquil sphere At the sleepless waters ...
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all ...
Come, dear children, let us away; Down and away below! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great ...
The cypress stood up like a church That night we felt our love would hold, And saintly moonlight seemed to ...
The nameless shadowy female rose from out the breast of Orc, Her snaky hair brandishing in the winds of Enitharmon; ...
Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch's right hand, red as wines From his mountains; an ...
I rose up at the dawn of day-- `Get thee away! get thee away! Pray'st thou for riches? Away! away! ...
84 Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch's right hand, red as wines 85 From his ...
O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stain'd With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit Beneath my shady ...
The vision of Christ that thou dost see Is my vision's greatest enemy. Thine has a great hook nose like ...
The modest Rose puts forth a thorn: The humble Sheep. a threatning horn: While the Lily white, shall in Love ...
Whate'er is Born of Mortal Birth, Must be consumed with the Earth To rise from Generation free: Then what have ...
A flower was offered to me; Such a flower as May never bore. But I said I've a Pretty Rose-tree. ...
When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue, Could scarcely cry ...
O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm. That flies in the night In the howling storm: Has found out ...
"They only burn themselves to reach Paradise" - Mne. Nhu original courage is good, motivation be damned, and if you ...
call it the greenhouse effect or whatever but it just doesn't rain like it used to. I particularly remember the ...
not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose, he was a young man riding a bus through North Carolina on ...
Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory— Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. ...
Rose-maiden, no, I do not quarrel With these dear chains, they don't demean. The nightingale embushed in laurel, The sylvan ...
A flower was offered to me: Such a flower as May never bore. But I said "I’ve a Pretty Rose-tree", ...
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