The Works of Dante Gabriel Rossetti

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Ellis, 1911 - English poetry - 684 pages
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Page 81 - Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass. Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragon-fly Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky : — So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above. Oh I clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower. This close-companioned inarticulate hour When twofold silence was the song of love.
Page 535 - TELL me now in what hidden way is Lady Flora the lovely Roman ? Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais, Neither of them the fairer woman ? Where is Echo, beheld of no man, Only heard on river and mere, — She whose beauty was more than human ? . . . But where are the snows of yester-year ? Where's Heloise, the learned nun, For whose sake Abeillard, I ween.
Page 5 - And I myself will teach to him, I myself, lying so, The songs I sing here ; which his voice Shall pause in, hushed and slow, And find some knowledge at each pause, Or some new thing to know.
Page 170 - I shall not return, even to the land of darkness and the shadow of death; a land of darkness, as darkness itself, and of the shadow of death, without any order and where the light is as darkness.
Page 81 - SILENT NOON. YOUR hands lie open in the long fresh grass, — The finger-points look through like rosy blooms : Your eyes smile peace. The pasture gleams and glooms 'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.
Page 66 - Sister Helen, And says that he melts before a flame." "My heart for his pleasure fared the same, Little brother." (O Mother, Mary Mother, Fire at the heart, between Hell and Heaven!) "Here's Keith of Westholm riding fast, Sister Helen, For I know the white plume on the blast.
Page 67 - Oh it's Keith of Keith now that rides fast, Sister Helen, For I know the white hair on the blast." " The short short hour will soon be past, Little brother ! " (O Mother, Mary Mother, Will soon be past, between Hell and Heaven !)
Page 161 - Made by her candle, she had care To work some distance from the bed. Without, there was a cold moon up, Of winter radiance sheer and thin; The hollow halo it was in Was like an icy crystal cup. Through the small room, with subtle sound Of flame, by vents the fireshine drove And reddened. In its dim alcove The mirror shed a clearness round. I had been sitting up some nights, And my tired mind felt weak and blank; Like a sharp strengthening wine it drank The stillness and the broken lights.
Page 58 - The smile rose first, — anon drew nigh The thought: . . . Those heavy wings spread high So sure of flight, which do not fly; That set gaze never on the sky ; Those scriptured flanks it cannot see; Its crown, a brow-contracting load; Its planted feet which trust the sod: . . . (So grew the image as I trod:) O Nineveh, was this thy God, — Thine also, mighty Nineveh?
Page 67 - Oh he prays you, as his heart would rive, Sister Helen, To save his dear son's soul alive." "Fire cannot slay it, it shall thrive. Little brother...

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