The Universal Anthology: A Collection of the Best Literature, Ancient, Mediæval and Modern, 第 8 巻

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130 ページ - Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green; We sit in the warm shade and feel right well How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell; We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing That skies are clear and grass is growing...
216 ページ - I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse: I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk: eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.
129 ページ - Earth gets its price for what Earth gives us: The beggar is taxed for a corner to die in, The priest hath his fee who comes and shrives us, We bargain for the graves we lie in ; At the devil's booth are all things sold, Each ounce of dross costs its ounce of gold...
132 ページ - The leper raised not the gold from the dust: "Better to me the poor man's crust, Better the blessing of the poor, Though I turn me empty from his door; That is no true alms which the hand can hold; He gives nothing but worthless gold Who gives from a sense of duty...
133 ページ - Long, sparkling aisles of steel-stemmed trees Bending to counterfeit a breeze; Sometimes the roof no fretwork knew But silvery mosses that downward grew; Sometimes it was carved in sharp relief With quaint arabesques...
133 ページ - The little brook heard it and built a roof 'Neath which he could house him, winter-proof; All night by the white stars...
126 ページ - OVER his keys the musing organist, Beginning doubtfully and far away, First lets his fingers wander as they list. And builds a bridge from Dreamland for his lay : Then, as the touch of his loved instrument Gives hope and fervor, nearer draws his theme, First guessed by faint auroral flushes sent Along the wavering vista of his dream.
129 ページ - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays; Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
131 ページ - Nor shall a pillow be under my head, Till I begin my vow to keep ; Here on the rushes will I sleep, And perchance there may come a vision true Ere day create the world anew.
136 ページ - When he girt his young life up in gilded mail And set forth in search of the Holy Grail. The heart within him was ashes and dust; He parted in twain his single crust, He broke the ice on the streamlet's brink And gave the leper to eat and drink...