And he said to her, What is his form? I woke; it was the midnight hour, The clock was echoing in the tower; But though my slumber was gone by, This dream it would not pass away—. Laying the palest shadow of a stress upon the second word. From a twig's having lashed across it open. Christabel by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Angers that are like noisy clouds have set our hearts abeat; But we have all bent low and low and kissed the quiet feet. By myself have I taken an oath, a true word has gone from my mouth, and will not be changed, that to me every knee will be bent, and every tongue will give honour. I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and am not contain'd between my hat and boots, And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good, The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good. I dilate you with tremendous breath, I buoy you up, Every room of the house do I fill with an arm'd force, Lovers of me, bafflers of graves.
So they show their relations to me and I accept them, They bring me tokens of myself, they evince them plainly in their possession. Search Results by Versions. I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass. Red Hanrahan's Song About Ireland, by W. B. Yeats | : poems, essays, and short stories. We feed them lunch and we feed them God's Word and we watch them transform. They said this to test him, so that they might have a charge against him. I'd like to get away from earth awhile. Coiled around its wings and neck. Press close bare-bosom'd night—press close magnetic nourishing night! And the lady, whose voice was faint and sweet, Did thus pursue her answer meet:—.
I am a free companion, I bivouac by invading watchfires, I turn the bridegroom out of bed and stay with the bride myself, I tighten her all night to my thighs and lips. With eyes upraised, as one that prayed. To his work without flinching the accoucheur comes, I see the elder-hand pressing receiving supporting, I recline by the sills of the exquisite flexible doors, And mark the outlet, and mark the relief and escape.
She maketh answer to the clock, Four for the quarters, and twelve for the hour; Ever and aye, by shine and shower, Sixteen short howls, not over loud; Some say, she sees my lady's shroud. Wildly on Sir Leoline. A sight to dream of, not to tell! From the bodies and forms of men! But we have all bent low and low and kissed the quiet feet. The touch, the sight, had passed away, And in its stead that vision blest, Which comforted her after-rest. "I must bear it, if you let it in. " From his high place he sent shaking on the earth; he saw and nations were suddenly moved: and the eternal mountains were broken, the unchanging hills were bent down; his ways are eternal. That I could forget the mockers and insults! What if her guardian spirit 'twere, What if she knew her mother near? He hastes, he hastes. And to those whose war-vessels sank in the sea!
I do not press my fingers across my mouth, I keep as delicate around the bowels as around the head and heart, Copulation is no more rank to me than death is. And thus the lofty lady spake—. Have I given orders for such a day as this? My voice is the wife's voice, the screech by the rail of the stairs, They fetch my man's body up dripping and drown'd. Home to her father's mansion. My soul still keeps the memory of them; and is bent down in me. Where are you off to, lady? But we have all bent low and low bred. And wouldst thou wrong thy only child, Her child and thine? The wind has bundled up the clouds high over Knock- narea, And thrown the thunder on the stones for all that Maeve can say. And let the drowsy sacristan. Hang (44 instances). Then Christabel stretched forth her hand, And comforted fair Geraldine: O well, bright dame!
Stretch forth thy hand (thus ended she). Give me a little time beyond my cuff'd head, slumbers, dreams, gaping, I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake. So low for long, they never right themselves: You may see their trunks arching in the woods. The faintness of the voice was pitiable and dreadful. Ben and jerry lows. It was now two days before the Passover and the feast of Unleavened Bread, and the High Priests and Scribes were bent on finding how to seize Him by stratagem and put Him to death. Can this be she, The lady, who knelt at the old oak tree? I lie in the night air in my red shirt, the pervading hush is for my sake, Painless after all I lie exhausted but not so unhappy, White and beautiful are the faces around me, the heads are bared of their fire-caps, The kneeling crowd fades with the light of the torches.
One hour was thine—. Again the long roll of the drummers, Again the attacking cannon, mortars, Again to my listening ears the cannon responsive. I look into these faces and remember them nearly four years ago, destitute, hopeless, starving, and afraid of my funny white skin. Is fastened to an angel's feet. When the guards of the house tremble, and the men of strength are bent; the grinders cease because they are few, and those looking through the windows see dimly. So expressive it was, of a hopeless and lost creature, that a famished traveller, wearied out by lonely wandering in a wilderness, would have remembered home and friends in such a tone before lying down to die. Ashkelon will see it with fear, and Gaza, bent with pain; and Ekron, for her hope will be shamed: and the king will be cut off from Gaza, and Ashkelon will be unpeopled. This day before dawn I ascended a hill and look'd at the crowded heaven, And I said to my spirit When we become the enfolders of those orbs, and the pleasure and knowledge of every thing in them, shall we be fill'd and satisfied then? With such perplexity of mind. I acknowledge the duplicates of myself, the weakest and shallowest is deathless with me, What I do and say the same waits for them, Every thought that flounders in me the same flounders in them. Sit a while dear son, Here are biscuits to eat and here is milk to drink, But as soon as you sleep and renew yourself in sweet clothes, I kiss you with a good-by kiss and open the gate for your egress hence. I wonder where they get those tokens, Did I pass that way huge times ago and negligently drop them? Must needs express his love's excess.
Shoulder your duds dear son, and I will mine, and let us hasten forth, Wonderful cities and free nations we shall fetch as we go. Whoever winks knowingly is plotting deceit; anyone who purses his lips is bent towards evil. If you enjoyed 'Song of Myself', we'd recommend checking our Whitman's equally brilliant (and considerably shorter! ) Then the border ended at the [Mediterranean] sea. And thus she stood, in dizzy trance; Still picturing that look askance. Mind (762 instances). Thy power to declare, That in the dim forest. The gems entangled in her hair.
Crumpled (1 instance). The sun's rays beat down the glory of God, and covered in mud and chicken broth, I know that this is contentment. To be in any form, what is that? And, if she move unquietly, Perchance, 'tis but the blood so free. And while their faces were bent down to the earth in fear, these said to them, Why are you looking for the living among the dead? I whisper thanks for the ways they have blessed me and the things they have taught me, and here in a puddle on the hard tile floor, joy overflows. That thou this woman send away! Long enough have you dream'd contemptible dreams, Now I wash the gum from your eyes, You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every moment of your life. Hands I have taken, face I have kiss'd, mortal I have ever touch'd, it shall be you. Sun so generous it shall be you! Timorous pond-snipe! To any one dying, thither I speed and twist the knob of the door.
Warned by a vision in my rest! Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes. Becoming already a creator, Putting myself here and now to the ambush'd womb of the shadows. I know I have the best of time and space, and was never measured and never will be measured. And thou, son of man, prophesy, And smite hand on hand, And bent is the sword a third time, The sword of the wounded!
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