The Island: Canto II. (Lord George Gordon Byron Poems)
I.How pleasant were the songs of Toobonai,When Summer's Sun went down the coral bay!Come, let us to the islet's softest ...
I.How pleasant were the songs of Toobonai,When Summer's Sun went down the coral bay!Come, let us to the islet's softest ...
Range from Tower--hill all London to the Fleet,Thence round the Temple, t'utmost Grosvenor--street:Take in your route both Gray's and Lincoln's ...
A FRAGMENT. Now the loud winds with angry pinions sweep The laboring bosom of the stormy deep, The face of day o'erspread by ...
Rifted mountains, clad with forests, girded round by gleaming pines,Where the morning, like an angel, robed in golden splendour shines;Shimmering ...
Kwannon, the Japanese goddess of mercy, is represented with many hands, typifying generosity and kindness. In one of these hands she is supposedto hold an axe, wherewith she severs the threads of human lives. I am the ancient one, the many-handed, The merciful am I. Here where the black pine bends above the sea They bring their gifts to me — Spoil of the foreshore where the corals lie, Fishes of ivory, and amber stranded, And carven beads Green as the fretted fringes of the weeds. Age after age, I watch the long sails pass. Age after age, I see them come once more Home, as the grey-winged pigeon to the grass, The white crane to the shore. Goddess am I of heaven and this small town Above the beaches brown. And here the children bring me cakes, and flowers, And all the strange sea-creatures that they find, For "She," they say, "the Merciful, is ours, And she," they say, "is kind." Camphor and wave-worn sandalwood for burning They bring to me alone, Shells that are veined like irises, and those Curved like the clear bright petals of a rose. Wherefore an hundredfold again returning I render them their own — Full-freighted nets that flash among the foam, Laughter and love, and gentle eyes at home, Cool of the night, and the soft air that swells My silver temple bells. Winds of the spring, the little flowers that shine Where the young barley slopes to meet the pine, Gold of the charlock, guerdon of the rain, I give to them again. Yet though the fishing boats return full-laden Out of the broad blue east, Under the brown roofs pain is their handmaiden, And mourning is their feast. Yea, though my many hands are raised to bless, I am not strong to give them happiness. Sorrow comes swiftly as the swallow flying, O, little lives, that are so quickly done! Peace is my raiment, mercy is my breath, I am the gentle one. When they are tired of sorrow and of sighing I give them death. (Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall)
I.Summer was dead and Autumn was expiring,And infant Winter laughed upon the landAll cloudlessly and cold;--when I, desiringMore in this ...
Sing the song of wave-worn Coogee, Coogee in the distance white,With its jags and points disrupted, gaps and fractures fringed ...
1. We have poled our staunch canoe Many a boiling torrent through; Paddling where the eddies drew, Athwart the roaring flood we flew._Chorus--_ Dip ...
Life's mystery — deep, restless as the ocean —Hath surged and wailed for ages to and fro;Earth's generations watch its ...
Ye holy Towers that shade the wave-worn steep,Long may ye rear your aged brows sublime,Though, hurrying silent by, relentless TimeAssail ...
Scene, on an Eminence on one of those Downs, which afford to the South a view of the Sea; to ...
1.Lord of the world's undying youth, What joys are in thy might!What beauties of the inner truth, And of the ...
MY aged head now stoops its honours low, Bow'd with the load of fifty winters' snow; And for the raven's ...
TO Y---,WITH A BOWL OF BOHEMIAN GLASS. From rocky hills, where climbs the vine; Where on his ...
Darkness sat brooding o'er the infant world, That in chaotic gloom and silence lay, Till from the throne of Light ...
A wave-worn boulder, with green sea-moss wrapping A silken mantle o'er its jagged sides; And silvery, seething waters softly ...
Aye! I am a poet and upon my tombShall maidens scatter rose leavesAnd men myrtles, ere the nightSlays day with ...
The First Voice HE trilled a carol fresh and free, He laughed aloud for very glee: There came a breeze ...
YE holy tow'rs, that crown the azure deep, Still may ye shade the wave-worn rock sublime, Though, hurrying silent by, ...
BUT two miles more, and then we rest ! Well, there is still an hour of day, And long the ...
Scene, on an Eminence on one of those Downs, which afford to the South a view of the Sea; to ...
(Time, Morning. Scene, the Shore.) Once more to daily toil--once more to wear The weeds of infamy--from every joy The ...
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