Ah Maud, you milk-white fawn, you are all unmeet for a wife.
Alfred TennysonAnd out of darkness came the hands that reach thro' nature, moulding men.
Alfred TennysonThat which we are, we are.
Alfred TennysonThere rolls the deep where grew the tree
O earth, what changes hast thou seen!
There where the long street roars hath been.
The stillness of the central sea.
Mots clés spiritual
Come, my friends
Tis not too late to seek a newer world
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die
Mots clés inspirational
A louse in the locks of literature.
Alfred TennysonThe wind sounds like a silver wire,
And from beyond the noon a fire
Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher
The skies stoop down in their desire;
And, isled in sudden seas of light,
My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight,
Bursts into blossom in his sight.
Mots clés fatima
She sleeps: her breathings are not heard
In palace chambers far apart.
The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd
That lie upon her charmed heart
She sleeps: on either hand upswells
The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest:
She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells
A perfect form in perfect rest.
Mots clés the-day-dream the-sleeping-beauty
A man had given all other bliss,
And all his worldly worth for this
To waste his whole heart in one kiss
Upon her perfect lips.
Mots clés love
Tis a morning pure and sweet,
And a dewy splendour falls
On the little flower that clings
To the turrets and the walls;
'Tis a morning pure and sweet,
And the light and shadow fleet;
She is walking in the meadow,
And the woodland echo rings;
In a moment we shall meet;
She is singing in the meadow,
And the rivulet at her feet
Ripples on in light and shadow
To the ballad that she sings.
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