The Lyre: Fugitive Poetry of the Nineteenth CenturyTilt and Bogue, 1841 - 344 sider |
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Side xiv
... thou but know . Abjuration . By Miss By Lady C. Lamb Bowles The Hebrew Mother . By Mrs. Hemans Napoleon Moribundus . By Charles Macarthy The North - wester . By John Malcolm Song • 213 213 216 218 221 222 223 224 On seeing the Endymion ...
... thou but know . Abjuration . By Miss By Lady C. Lamb Bowles The Hebrew Mother . By Mrs. Hemans Napoleon Moribundus . By Charles Macarthy The North - wester . By John Malcolm Song • 213 213 216 218 221 222 223 224 On seeing the Endymion ...
Side 5
... thou a thing of mortal birth , Whose happy home is on our earth ? Does human blood with life embue Those wandering ... thou , what thy form would seem , The phantom of a blessed dream ? A human shape I feel thou art , I feel it at my ...
... thou a thing of mortal birth , Whose happy home is on our earth ? Does human blood with life embue Those wandering ... thou , what thy form would seem , The phantom of a blessed dream ? A human shape I feel thou art , I feel it at my ...
Side 6
... thou in their still home wouldest live ! Though in thy face no family line Might sweetly say , " This babe is mine ! " In time thou wouldest become the same As their own child , -all but the name ! How happy must thy parents be Who ...
... thou in their still home wouldest live ! Though in thy face no family line Might sweetly say , " This babe is mine ! " In time thou wouldest become the same As their own child , -all but the name ! How happy must thy parents be Who ...
Side 7
Fugitive Poetry of the Nineteenth Century Lyre. Thou smilest as if thy soul were soaring To Heaven , and Heaven's God adoring ! And who can tell what visions high May bless an infant's sleeping eye ? What brighter throne can brightness ...
Fugitive Poetry of the Nineteenth Century Lyre. Thou smilest as if thy soul were soaring To Heaven , and Heaven's God adoring ! And who can tell what visions high May bless an infant's sleeping eye ? What brighter throne can brightness ...
Side 11
... thou , with cold and careless looks , wilt often pass me by , Unconscious of my swelling heart , and of my wistful eye ; Though thou wilt wed some Highland love , nor waste one thought on me , — Here's a health , my Scottish lassie ...
... thou , with cold and careless looks , wilt often pass me by , Unconscious of my swelling heart , and of my wistful eye ; Though thou wilt wed some Highland love , nor waste one thought on me , — Here's a health , my Scottish lassie ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
ALARIC beam beauty Behave yoursel beneath billow bird blessed bloom blue bosom bower breast breath bright bright eyes brow calm cheek cloud cold dark dead dear death deep dream e'en earth EAST INDIAMAN faded fair fame feel fled flowers gaze gentle gleam glory glow gone grave green grief hath hear heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre hope hour land lassie leaves life's light lips lonely look LORD BYRON lute LYRE moon morning mountain N. P. WILLIS ne'er NELL GWYN never night o'er pale rest Rhine rose round Sappho shade shine shore SICILIAN VESPERS sigh silent skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream summer sweet tears tempest thee thine thou art thou hast thou wert thought Twas Valentine's day voice wave weep wild wind wings young youth
Populære passager
Side 214 - And the angel which I saw stand upon the sea and upon the earth lifted up his hand to heaven. And sware by him that liveth for ever and ever, who created heaven, and the things that therein are, and the earth, and the things that therein are, and the sea, and the things which are therein, that there should be time no longer...
Side 164 - The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle.
Side 58 - And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he may, For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray, Press where ye see my white plume shine, amidst the ranks of war, And be your oriflamme to-day the helmet of Navarre.
Side 193 - And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home ; When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still, And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill, The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.
Side 257 - Guard it ! — God will prosper thee ! In the dark and trying hour, In the breaking forth of power, In the rush of steeds and men, His right hand will shield thee then. " Take thy banner ! But, when night Closes round the ghastly fight, If the vanquished warrior bow, Spare him ! — By our holy vow, By our prayers and many tears, By the mercy that endears, Spare him ! — he our love hath shared ! Spare him ! — as thou wouldst be spared...
Side 84 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Side 59 - was passed from man to man. But out spake gentle Henry, " No Frenchman is my foe: Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go.
Side 276 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear...
Side 158 - Thy sunken eye's unearthly light To him is welcome as the sight Of sky and stars to prisoned men; Thy grasp is welcome as the hand Of brother in a foreign land; Thy summons welcome as the cry That told the Indian isles were nigh To the world-seeking Genoese, When the land-wind, from woods of palm, And orange-groves, and fields of balm, Blew o'er the Haytian seas.
Side 103 - midst Italian flowers — The last of that bright band. And parted thus they rest who played Beneath the same green tree ; Whose voices mingled as they prayed Around one parent knee...