Marcian Colonna: An Italian Tale; with Three Dramatic Scenes, and Other Poems

Forsideomslag
J. Warren, 1820 - 190 sider

Fra bogen

Udvalgte sider

Andre udgaver - Se alle

Almindelige termer og sætninger

Populære passager

Side 75 - Ocean. 0 thou vast Ocean ! ever-sounding sea ! Thou symbol of a drear immensity ! Thou thing that windest round the solid world Like a huge animal, which, downward hurled From the black clouds, lies weltering and alone, Lashing and writhing till its strength be gone. Thy voice is like the thunder, and thy sleep Is as a giant's slumber, loud and deep.
Side 76 - Give answer to the tempest- waken air ; But o'er its wastes the weakly tenants range At will, and wound its bosom as they go : Ever the same, it hath no ebb, no flow ; But in their stated...
Side 77 - Oh ! wonderful thou art, great element ; And fearful in thy spleeny humours bent, And lovely in repose : thy summer form Is beautiful, and when thy silver waves Make music in earth's dark and winding caves, 1 love to wander on thy pebbled beach, Marking the sunlight at the evening hour, And hearken to the thoughts thy waters teach — " Eternity, eternity, and power.
Side 76 - Thou only, terrible Ocean, hast a power, A will, a voice, and in thy wrathful hour, When thou dost lift thine anger to the clouds, A fearful and magnificent beauty shrouds Thy broad green forehead. If thy waves be driven Backwards and forwards by the shifting wind, How quickly dost thou thy great strength unbind, And stretch thine arms, and war at once with Heaven...
Side 137 - ... Wide awake. There are the stars abroad, I see. I feel As though I had been sleeping many a day. What time o
Side 72 - THERE was a Tempest brooding in the air, Far in the west. Above, the skies were fair, And the sun seemed to go in glory down — One small black cloud (one only), like a crown Touched his descending...
Side 137 - Thro' life, or only in our days of death, I know not ; yet, before, ne'er did my soul Look upwards with such hope of joy, or pine For that hope's deep completion. Marian ! Let me see more of Heaven. There— enough. Are you not well, sweet girl ? Mar.
Side 186 - For me, my days are gone ! No more shall I, in vintage times, prepare Chaplets to bind my hair, As I was wont : oh ! 'twas for you alone ! " But on my bier I'll lay Me down in frozen beauty, pale and wan. Martyr of love to man, And, like a broken flower, gently decay.
Side 76 - At will, and wound its bosom as they go : Ever the same, it hath no ebb, no flow : But in their stated rounds the seasons come, And pass like visions to their...

Bibliografiske oplysninger