Select Poems of Coleridge, Wordsworth, Campbell LongfellowW.J. Gage, 1895 - 360ÆäÀÌÁö |
µµ¼ º»¹®¿¡¼
30°³ÀÇ °á°ú Áß 1 - 5°³
xxiv ÆäÀÌÁö
... moved to Rydal Mount ; " Christopher North " was at Elleray , nine miles distant ; Dr. Arnold built himself a house at Ambleside , an hour's walk from Rydal Mount . Occasionally the poet left home to make long trips on the Continent or ...
... moved to Rydal Mount ; " Christopher North " was at Elleray , nine miles distant ; Dr. Arnold built himself a house at Ambleside , an hour's walk from Rydal Mount . Occasionally the poet left home to make long trips on the Continent or ...
8 ÆäÀÌÁö
... moved and moved , and took at last At its nearer approach , it seemeth him to be a ship ; and at a dear ransom he freeth his speech from the bonds of thirst . A certain shape , I wist . A speck , a mist , a shape , I wist ! And still it ...
... moved and moved , and took at last At its nearer approach , it seemeth him to be a ship ; and at a dear ransom he freeth his speech from the bonds of thirst . A certain shape , I wist . A speck , a mist , a shape , I wist ! And still it ...
9 ÆäÀÌÁö
... moved and moved , and took at last At its nearer approach , it seemeth him to be a ship ; and at a dear ransom he freeth his speech from the bonds of thirst . A certain shape , I wist . A speck , a mist , a shape , I wist ! And still it ...
... moved and moved , and took at last At its nearer approach , it seemeth him to be a ship ; and at a dear ransom he freeth his speech from the bonds of thirst . A certain shape , I wist . A speck , a mist , a shape , I wist ! And still it ...
13 ÆäÀÌÁö
... moved in tracks of shining white , And when they reared , the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes . 270 By the light of the moon he beholdeth God's crea- tures of the great calm . 275 Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich ...
... moved in tracks of shining white , And when they reared , the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes . 270 By the light of the moon he beholdeth God's crea- tures of the great calm . 275 Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich ...
15 ÆäÀÌÁö
... moved , and could not feel my limbs : I was so light — almost I thought that I had died in sleep , ancient Ma- riner is re- 300 freshed with rain . 305 And was a blessed ghost . And soon I heard a roaring wind : It did not come anear ...
... moved , and could not feel my limbs : I was so light — almost I thought that I had died in sleep , ancient Ma- riner is re- 300 freshed with rain . 305 And was a blessed ghost . And soon I heard a roaring wind : It did not come anear ...
±âŸ ÃâÆǺ» - ¸ðµÎ º¸±â
ÀÚÁÖ ³ª¿À´Â ´Ü¾î ¹× ±¸¹®
Acadians albatross Alfoxden ancient Mariner archaic archaism art thou Basil beauty bird black lips breath breeze bright Campbell Cape Horn church Coleridge Composition and publication dark dead death deep edition England English Evangeline eyes fair flowers forest French Gabriel gleam glittering Grand-Pré Grasmere hand hath heard heart heaven hermit King's College Chapel land light lips living Longfellow look loud Lyrical Ballads maiden meadows mist and snow moon morning Nether Stowey night Nova Scotia o'er ocean passed Patrick Spence Percy's Reliques poem poet poet's poetic poetry river rose round sails shadow Shakspere Shelvocke shining ship shore silent sing sleep song sonnet sorrow soul sound spake spirit stanza stars stood storm sweet tale Tennyson thee things thought tion trees village voice water-sprite wave wedding-guest William Wordsworth winds do blow words Wordsworth youth
Àαâ Àο뱸
9 ÆäÀÌÁö - The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain. Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay...
xxvi ÆäÀÌÁö - But tell me, tell me ! speak again, Thy soft response renewing — What makes that ship drive on so fast? What is the ocean doing?" SECOND VOICE "Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the moon is cast — "If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him.
9 ÆäÀÌÁö - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted...
xxxvi ÆäÀÌÁö - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
163 ÆäÀÌÁö - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day...
xxi ÆäÀÌÁö - My lips were wet, my throat was cold, My garments all were dank ; Sure I had drunken in my dreams, And still my body drank. I moved, and could not feel my limbs : I was so light — almost I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed ghost.
49 ÆäÀÌÁö - Lyrical Ballads, in which it was agreed that my endeavours should be directed to persons and characters supernatural, or at least romantic — yet so as to transfer from our inward nature a human interest and a semblance of truth sufficient to procure for these shadows of imagination that willing suspension of disbelief, for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith.
160 ÆäÀÌÁö - How sleep the brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung, By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there!
163 ÆäÀÌÁö - This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main, — The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings, And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.
xix ÆäÀÌÁö - In his loneliness and fixedness he yearneth towards the journeying Moon, and the stars that still sojourn, yet still move onward; and every where the blue sky belongs to them, and is their appointed rest, and their native country and their own natural homes, which they enter unannounced, as lords that are certainly expected and yet there is a silent joy at their arrival.