The Story of a Round-house: And Other PoemsMacmillan, 1912 - 325 من الصفحات |
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
The Story of a Round-House, and Other Poems <span dir=ltr>John Masefield</span> لا تتوفر معاينة - 2016 |
The Story of a Round-House and Other Poems <span dir=ltr>John Masefield</span> لا تتوفر معاينة - 2016 |
The Story of a Round-House and Other Poems <span dir=ltr>John Masefield</span> لا تتوفر معاينة - 2016 |
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
aloft beat beauty bells birds blowing blue boat bosun bows brain bright bunk burgoo burst called Cape Horn captain chests clanging clipper cold Countess Cathleen cried crojick dark Dauber daubs dawn dead dear death deck dripping drowned eyes farm father felt footrope Frap frozen futtock-shrouds gleam glittering glow golden gone grass green grey grey dawn half-deck hands heart Heave hell Henry Morgan JOHN MASEFIELD Laugh light look man's mast mate of Henry mind never night oilskins old bold mate paint passed play Port Fore Port Mahon Port of Holy rags rain reefers road rolled rose roundhouse sail Salcombe seaman sennit ship's shook singing skysail snow song soul Spanish spoiled stars staysails strange sweet tell There's things thought topsail town trembling Warwick Goble watch William Butler Yeats wind wind's yard yelled
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 240 - QurxQriKEME of Nineveh from distant Ophir, Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory, And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.
الصفحة 268 - ROADWAYS One road leads to London, One road runs to Wales, My road leads me seawards To the white dipping sails. One road leads to the river, As it goes singing slow ; My road leads to shipping, Where the bronzed sailors go. Leads me, lures me, calls me To salt green tossing sea ; A road without earth's road-dust Is the right road for me. A wet road heaving, shining, And wild with seagulls' cries, A mad salt sea-wind blowing The salt spray in my eyes.
الصفحة 306 - I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
الصفحة 269 - And wild with seagull's cries, A mad salt sea-wind blowing The salt spray in my eyes. My road calls me, lures me West, east, south, and north; Most roads lead men homewards, My road leads me forth To add more miles to the tally Of grey miles left behind, In quest of that one beauty God put me here to find.
الصفحة 311 - IN the dark womb where I began My mother's life made me a man. Through all the months of human birth Her beauty fed my common earth. I cannot see, nor breathe, nor stir, But through the death of some of her.
الصفحة 301 - Where the shy-eyed delicate deer troop down to the brook to drink When the stars are mellow and large at the coming on of the night. O, to feel the beat of the rain, and the homely smell of the earth, Is a tune for the blood to jig to, a joy past power of words; And the blessed green comely meadows are all a-ripple with mirth At the noise of the lambs at play and the dear wild cry of the birds.
الصفحة 243 - For it's that that makes the bonny drink to warm my copper nose, Says the old bold mate of Henry Morgan. Oh some are fond of fiddles, and a song well sung, And some are all for music for to lilt upon the tongue; But mouths were made for tankards, and for sucking at the bung, Says the old bold mate of Henry Morgan. I2S Oh some are fond of dancing, and some are fond of dice, And some are all for red lips, and pretty lasses' eyes; But a right Jamaica puncheon is a finer prize To the old bold mate of...
الصفحة 283 - I HOLD that when a person dies His soul returns again to earth; Arrayed in some new flesh-disguise Another mother gives him birth. With sturdier limbs and brighter brain The old soul takes the roads again.
الصفحة 312 - I use it ill or well, Nor knock at dusty doors to find Her beauty dusty in the mind. If the grave's gates could be undone, She would not know her little son, I am so grown. If we should meet, She would pass by me in the street, Unless my soul's face let her see My sense of what she did for me.
الصفحة 264 - LAUGH and be merry, remember, better the world with a song, Better the world with a blow in the teeth of a wrong. Laugh, for the time is brief, a thread the length of a span. Laugh and be proud to belong to the old proud pageant of man.