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Arthur Henry Adams:Maoriland and other verses - Livres de poche
ISBN: 1236128761
[EAN: 9781236128768], Neubuch, [PU: RareBooksClub], ARTHUR HENRY ADAMS,SUBJECTS, This item is printed on demand. Paperback. 28 pages. Dimensions: 9.7in. x 7.4in. x 0.1in.This historic boo… Plus…
[EAN: 9781236128768], Neubuch, [PU: RareBooksClub], ARTHUR HENRY ADAMS,SUBJECTS, This item is printed on demand. Paperback. 28 pages. Dimensions: 9.7in. x 7.4in. x 0.1in.This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1899 edition. Excerpt: . . . upon your lips. Call memory To that fair moment when you heard my plea, And in the tumult of my arms warm bliss, Like a frail floweret that is crushed amiss. You thrilled to frenzied life exultantly, And all your body pulsed with loves desire I Can I in words that perfect hour rehearse, Or write the vehemence of veins on fire My lips would only kiss--and you require From my hearts royal hoard one pallid verse--The grey, cold ashes left on passions pyre 1 THE terrible tranquillity of space 1 My soul shrinks back in sudden doubt, i fear The myriad eyes that through the ether peer, And chill the arrogance that dared to trace The grave enigma of the cosmic face. Yet through the soundless night a voice austere--We that you deem afar are small and near; With lowly things and humble we have place; We are but smoke that from a burnt Past rears; The idle spray Gods prow flings in its sweep Through wider waters; the mere dust that curls From his vast chariot-wheels as on He whirls; The futile sparks that from His anvil leap; Or drifting seeds, pregnant of larger spheres. THE GIRL AT THE HARP. IKE Clotho, at her harp she sits and weaves With mystic fingers from the swaying strings A melody that ever louder sings And my charmed heart in vibrant rapture leaves All hers I And all her quiet life receives The peaceful melody which round her clings; She walks amid suave strains and murmurings That never doubt or strident discord cleaves. And from her singing harp she bends to grant My dear desire; and the poor monotone, That is my life, in her glad heart she takes, And, twining its dull phrases with her own Full-flowing theme of life, of both she makes The paean of one love reverberant. HAT horror lurked within the First Mans As downward to the. . . This item ships from La Vergne,TN.<
- NEW BOOK Frais d'envoi EUR 11.68 BuySomeBooks, Las Vegas, NV, U.S.A. [52360437] [Rating: 5 (von 5)]
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Arthur Henry Adams:
Maoriland and other verses
- Livres de pocheISBN: 9781236128768
RareBooksClub. Paperback. New. This item is printed on demand. Paperback. 28 pages. Dimensions: 9.7in. x 7.4in. x 0.1in.This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purc… Plus…
RareBooksClub. Paperback. New. This item is printed on demand. Paperback. 28 pages. Dimensions: 9.7in. x 7.4in. x 0.1in.This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1899 edition. Excerpt: . . . upon your lips. Call memory To that fair moment when you heard my plea, And in the tumult of my arms warm bliss, Like a frail floweret that is crushed amiss. You thrilled to frenzied life exultantly, And all your body pulsed with loves desire I Can I in words that perfect hour rehearse, Or write the vehemence of veins on fire My lips would only kiss--and you require From my hearts royal hoard one pallid verse--The grey, cold ashes left on passions pyre 1 THE terrible tranquillity of space 1 My soul shrinks back in sudden doubt, i fear The myriad eyes that through the ether peer, And chill the arrogance that dared to trace The grave enigma of the cosmic face. Yet through the soundless night a voice austere--We that you deem afar are small and near; With lowly things and humble we have place; We are but smoke that from a burnt Past rears; The idle spray Gods prow flings in its sweep Through wider waters; the mere dust that curls From his vast chariot-wheels as on He whirls; The futile sparks that from His anvil leap; Or drifting seeds, pregnant of larger spheres. THE GIRL AT THE HARP. IKE Clotho, at her harp she sits and weaves With mystic fingers from the swaying strings A melody that ever louder sings And my charmed heart in vibrant rapture leaves All hers I And all her quiet life receives The peaceful melody which round her clings; She walks amid suave strains and murmurings That never doubt or strident discord cleaves. And from her singing harp she bends to grant My dear desire; and the poor monotone, That is my life, in her glad heart she takes, And, twining its dull phrases with her own Full-flowing theme of life, of both she makes The paean of one love reverberant. HAT horror lurked within the First Mans As downward to the. . . This item ships from La Vergne,TN., RareBooksClub<
- Frais d'envoi EUR 10.77 BuySomeBooks