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قراءة كتاب Beauties of Tennyson
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 1
BEAUTIES
OF
TENNYSON.
20 ILLUSTRATIONS BY
FREDERIC B. SCHELL.
PORTER & COATES,
PHILADELPHIA.
Copyright,
1885,
By Porter & Coates.
CONTENTS
ContentsTHE BROOK.
I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
I make sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorps, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorps, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
With many a curve my banks I fret
By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
And here and there a foamy lake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak
Above the golden gravel,
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak
Above the golden gravel,
And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
"I CHATTER OVER STONY WAYS, IN LITTLE SHARPS AND TREBLES."ContentsSONG FROM "MAUD."
See what a lovely shell,
Small and pure as a pearl,
Lying close to my foot,
Frail, but a work divine,
Made so fairily well
With delicate spire and whorl,
How exquisitely minute,
A miracle of design!
Small and pure as a pearl,
Lying close to my foot,
Frail, but a work divine,
Made so fairily well
With delicate spire and whorl,
How exquisitely minute,
A miracle of design!
What is it? a learned man
Could give it a clumsy name.
Let him name it who can,
The beauty would be the same.
Could give it a clumsy name.
Let him name it who can,
The beauty would be the same.
The tiny cell is forlorn,
Void of the little living will
That made it stir on the shore.
Did he stand at the diamond door
Of his house in a rainbow frill?
Did he push, when he was uncurl'd,
Void of the little living will
That made it stir on the shore.
Did he stand at the diamond door
Of his house in a rainbow frill?
Did he push, when he was uncurl'd,