The Collected Poems of James Elroy Flecker

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A. Knopf, 1921 - 248 من الصفحات
 

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الصفحة 75 - Said it three thousand years ago. 0 friend unseen, unborn, unknown, Student of our sweet English tongue, Read out my words at night, alone: I was a poet, I was young. Since I can never see your face, And never shake you by the hand, 1 send my soul through time and space To greet you. You will understand.
الصفحة 36 - A linnet who had lost her way Sang on a blackened bough in Hell, Till all the ghosts remembered well The trees, the wind, the golden day. At last they knew that they had died When they heard music in that land, And someone there stole forth a hand To draw a brother to his side.
الصفحة 147 - We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go Always a little further : it may be Beyond that last blue mountain barred with snow, Across that angry or that glimmering sea, White on a throne or guarded in a cave There lives a prophet who can understand Why men were born : but surely we are brave, Who make the Golden Journey to Samarkand.
الصفحة 217 - JExa, patched up new — Stern painted brighter blue — ) That talkative, bald-headed seaman came (Twelve patient comrades sweating at the oar) From Troy's doom-crimson shore, And with great lies about his wooden horse Set the crew laughing, and forgot his course. It was so old a ship — who knows — who knows ? — And yet so beautiful, I watched in vain To see the mast burst open with a rose, And the whole deck put on its leaves again.
الصفحة 151 - Pass not beneath, O Caravan, or pass not singing. Have you heard That silence where the birds are dead yet something pipeth like a bird?
الصفحة 149 - Sweet to ride forth at evening from the wells When shadows pass gigantic on the sand, And softly through the silence beat the bells Along the Golden Road to Samarkand.
الصفحة 211 - Britons walked in, long ago, Where now the springs of ocean fall and flow, And the dead robed in red and sea-lilies overhead Sway when the long winds blow. Sleep not, my country; though night is here, afar Your children of the morning are clamorous for war: Fire in the night, O dreams.' Though she send you as she sent you, long ago, South to desert, east to ocean, west to snow, West of these out to seas colder than the Hebrides I must go Where the fleet of stars is anchored, and the young Star-captains...
الصفحة 180 - Tis ever sweet to lie On the dry carpet of the needles brown, And though the fanciful green lizard stir And windy odours light as thistledown Breathe from the lavdanon and lavender, Half to forget the wandering and pain, Half to remember days that have gone by, And dream and dream that I am home again...
الصفحة 92 - For I had not loved, I had not fought, And books are vanities, and manly strength A gathered flower. God grant us peace at length! I heard no more, and turned to leave their town Before the chill came, and the sun went down. Then rose a whisper, and I seemed to know A timorous man, buried long years ago. " On Earth I used to shape the Thing that seems. Master of all men, give me back my dreams. Give me that world that never failed me then, The hills I made and peopled with tall men, The palace that...
الصفحة 151 - Gates of Damascus Four great gates has the city of Damascus, And four Grand Wardens, on their spears reclining, All day long stand like tall stone men And sleep on the towers when the moon is shining. This is the song of the East Gate Warden When he locks the great gate and smokes in his garden.

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