The Poetical Works of Thomas Lovell Beddoes: Memoir. Poems collected in 1851. Poems hitherto unpublished. The bride's tragedy. The improvisatore. Miscellaneous poemsDent, 1890 |
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The Poetical Works of Thomas Lovell Beddoes: Memoir. Poems collected in 1851 ... Thomas Lovell Beddoes Affichage du livre entier - 1890 |
The Poetical Works of Thomas Lovell Beddoes: Memoir. Poems collected in 1851 ... Thomas Lovell Beddoes Affichage du livre entier - 1890 |
The Poetical Works of Thomas Lovell Beddoes: Memoir. Poems collected in 1851 ... Thomas Lovell Beddoes Affichage du livre entier - 1890 |
Expressions et termes fréquents
Alfarabi Barry Cornwall beauty Beddoes beneath bless blossom bosom breast breath bride bright Carrion Crow cheek Clau clouds curse Cyril Tourneur dæmon dark dead dear death Death's Jest-Book deep dost thou doth dream dreams art earth EDMUND GOSSE Enter HESPERUS Exeunt Exit eyes fair Fareham fear Flor Floribel flowers friends gentle ghost grave Guard hath hear heart heaven Hesp Improvisatore Kelsall kiss lady LENORA light lips live look LORD ERNEST maiden moonshine Mordred neath night o'er Oliv Olivia Orlando pale Poems pray Pygmalion Robert Browning round sighs silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul speak spirit starry stars sweet tears tell thee there's thine Thomas Lovell Beddoes thou art thou hast thought Twas twill unto verse Viol voice wee tailor weep whispers wild wind wings
Fréquemment cités
Page 46 - A cottage lone and still, With bowers nigh, Shadowy, my woes to still, Until I die. Such pearl from Life's fresh crown Fain would I shake me down. Were dreams to have at will, This would best heal my ill, This would I buy.
Page xxiv - Say what you will, I am convinced the man who is to awaken the drama must be a bold trampling fellow — no creeper into worm-holes — no reviver even, however good. These reanimations are vampire-cold.
Page 46 - IF there were dreams to sell, What would you buy? Some cost a passing bell; Some a light sigh, That shakes from Life's fresh crown Only a rose-leaf down. If there were dreams to sell, Merry and sad to tell, And the crier rang the bell, What would you buy?
Page 59 - SONG OF THE STYGIAN NAIADES. Proserpine may pull her flowers, Wet with dew or wet with tears, Red with anger, pale with fears, Is it any fault of ours, If Pluto be an amorous king, And comes home nightly, laden, Underneath his broad bat-wing, With a gentle, mortal maiden? Is it so, Wind, is it so ? All that you and I do know Is, that we saw fly and fix 'Mongst the reeds and flowers of Styx, Yesterday, Where the Furies made their hay For a bed of tiger-cubs, A great fly of Beelzebub's, The bee of...
Page 28 - ... thee, Of hearing careless and untutored eye, Not understood articulate speech of men, Nor marked the artificial mind of books, — The mortal's voice eternized by the pen, — Yet hast thou thought and language all unknown To Babel's scholars; oft intensest looks, Long scrutiny o'er some dark-veined stone Dost thou bestow, learning dead mysteries Of the world's birth-day, oft in eager tone With quick-tailed fellows handiest prompt replies, Solicitudes canine, four-footed amities.
Page 60 - t again, It shall sing out loud his shame. What hast caught then ? what hast caught ? Nothing but a poet's thought, Which so light did fall and fix 'Mongst the reeds and flowers of Styx, Yesterday, Where the Furies made their hay For a bed of...
Page 100 - HESPERUS' SONG, [From The Bride's Tragedv, Act i.) Poor old pilgrim Misery, Beneath the silent moon he sate, A-listening to the screech-owl's cry, And the cold wind's goblin prate ; Beside him lay his staff of yew With withered willow twined, His scant grey hair all wet with dew, His cheeks with grief ybrined ; And his cry it was ever, alack...
Page 34 - a jest" than life; you see Contempt grows quick from familiarity. I owe this wisdom to Anatomy — Your muse is younger in her soul than mine, — O feed her still on woman's smiles and wine, And give the world a tender song once more, For all the good can love and can adore What's human, fair and gentle. Few, I know, Can bear to sit at my board when I show The wretchedness and folly of man's all And laugh myself right heartily. Your call Is higher and more human : I will do Unsociably my part...
Page xxiv - With the greatest reverence for all the antiquities of the drama, I still think that we had better beget than revive...
Page 52 - Then thou shalt not be my first love, boy, nor my second, nor my third; If thou'rt the first, I'll laugh at thee and pierce thy flesh with thorns; If the second, from my chamber pelt, with jeering laugh and scorns; And if thou darest be the third, I'll draw my dirk unheard And cut thy heart in two, — And then die, weeping you.