Gems of the Modern Poets: With Biographical NoticesCarey and Hart, 1842 - Всего страниц: 408 |
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Стр. 23
... pass into her face . And vital feelings of delight Shall rear her form to stately height , Her virgin bosom swell ; Such thoughts to Lucy I will give , While she and I together live Here in this happy dell . " Thus Nature spake , -the ...
... pass into her face . And vital feelings of delight Shall rear her form to stately height , Her virgin bosom swell ; Such thoughts to Lucy I will give , While she and I together live Here in this happy dell . " Thus Nature spake , -the ...
Стр. 25
... pass by A sight so touching in its majesty : This City now doth , like a garment , wear The beauty of the morning ; silent , bare , Ships , towers , domes , theatres , and temples lie Open unto the fields , and to the sky , - All bright ...
... pass by A sight so touching in its majesty : This City now doth , like a garment , wear The beauty of the morning ; silent , bare , Ships , towers , domes , theatres , and temples lie Open unto the fields , and to the sky , - All bright ...
Стр. 30
... Pass on , -it honours none you wish to mourn : To mark a friend's remains these stones arise ; I never knew but one , -and here he lies . THE DREAM . OUR life is twofold : sleep hath Inscription on the Monu- ment of a.
... Pass on , -it honours none you wish to mourn : To mark a friend's remains these stones arise ; I never knew but one , -and here he lies . THE DREAM . OUR life is twofold : sleep hath Inscription on the Monu- ment of a.
Стр. 31
... pass like spirits of the past , —they speak Like sibyls of the future ; they have power- The tyranny of pleasure and of pain ; They make us what we were not - what they will , And shake us with the vision that's gone by , - The dread of ...
... pass like spirits of the past , —they speak Like sibyls of the future ; they have power- The tyranny of pleasure and of pain ; They make us what we were not - what they will , And shake us with the vision that's gone by , - The dread of ...
Стр. 32
... pass away ; He had no breath , no being , but in hers : She was his voice ; -he did not speak to her , But trembled on her words : she was his sight , For his eye follow'd hers , and saw with hers , Which colour'd all his objects ; —he ...
... pass away ; He had no breath , no being , but in hers : She was his voice ; -he did not speak to her , But trembled on her words : she was his sight , For his eye follow'd hers , and saw with hers , Which colour'd all his objects ; —he ...
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Gems of the Modern Poets: With Biographical Notices Samuel Carter Hall Недоступно для просмотра - 2016 |
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beauty beneath bird born bower breast breath bright brow busy Bee calm Charles Dibdin Charles Lamb child Christ's Hospital cloud cold Dæmon dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth EDWIN HALE ABBOT fair fame fancy Farewell feel flowers friends gaze genius gentle glory gone grace grave green grief happy hath hear heard heart heaven holy orders hope hour human labour Lallah Rookh Leigh Hunt light living Lochinvar lonely look Lord Lord Byron maid Mary merry heart mind mother mountains nature ne'er never night o'er pale poems Poet poetry rose round sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow Sotheby soul sound spirit star sweet tears thee thine things Thomas Hood thou art thought Twas voice wander waves weary weep wild wind wings writings young youth
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Стр. 276 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy tempests blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Стр. 58 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Стр. 176 - O'er moor and mountain green, O'er the red streamer that heralds the day, Over the cloudlet dim, Over the rainbow's rim, Musical cherub, soar, singing, away ! Then, when the gloaming comes, Low in the heather blooms Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be ! Emblem of happiness, Blest is thy dwelling-place — Oh, to abide in the desert with thee ! JAMES HOGG.
Стр. 10 - THERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore ; — Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
Стр. 15 - We in thought will join your throng, Ye that pipe and ye that play, Ye that through your hearts to-day Feel the gladness of the May ! What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower ; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind...
Стр. 63 - Thy brother Death came, and cried, "Would'st thou me?" Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noontide bee, "Shall I nestle near thy side? Would'st thou me?"— And I replied, "No, not thee.
Стр. 164 - Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest...
Стр. 279 - Then shook the hills with thunder riven; Then rush'd the steed, to battle driven; And louder than the bolts of Heaven Far flash'd the red artillery. But redder yet that light shall glow On Linden's hills of stained snow; And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 490 'Tis morn; but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy.
Стр. 41 - And often when I go to plough The ploughshare turns them out. For many thousand men/ said he, 'Were slain in that great victory.' 'Now tell us what 'twas all about...
Стр. 17 - Thus Nature spake — The work was done — How soon my Lucy's race was run! She died, and left to me This heath, this calm, and quiet scene; The memory of what has been, And never more will be.