Records of Woman, with Other PoemsGilley, 1828 - 324 sider |
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Side 26
... o'er the myrtle once call'd her own , As it greenly wav'd by the threshold stone ; She turn'd - and her mother's gaze brought back Each hue of her childhood's faded track . Oh ! hush the song , and let her tears 26 RECORDS OF WOMAN .
... o'er the myrtle once call'd her own , As it greenly wav'd by the threshold stone ; She turn'd - and her mother's gaze brought back Each hue of her childhood's faded track . Oh ! hush the song , and let her tears 26 RECORDS OF WOMAN .
Side 27
... mother's faithful breast , Like a babe that sobs itself to rest ; She wept - yet laid her hand awhile In his that waited her dawning smile , Her soul's affianced , nor cherish'd less For the gush of nature's tenderness ! She lifted her ...
... mother's faithful breast , Like a babe that sobs itself to rest ; She wept - yet laid her hand awhile In his that waited her dawning smile , Her soul's affianced , nor cherish'd less For the gush of nature's tenderness ! She lifted her ...
Side 29
... Mother ! I leave thee ! on thy breast , Pouring out joy and wo , I have found that holy place of rest Still changeless , -yet I go ! Lips , that have lull'd me with your strain , Eyes , that have watch'd my sleep ! Will earth give love ...
... Mother ! I leave thee ! on thy breast , Pouring out joy and wo , I have found that holy place of rest Still changeless , -yet I go ! Lips , that have lull'd me with your strain , Eyes , that have watch'd my sleep ! Will earth give love ...
Side 30
... Mother ! on earth it must still be so , Thou rearest the lovely to see them go ! They are moving onward , the bridal throng , Ye Ye may track their way by the swells of song ; may catch thro ' the foliage their white robes ' gleam ...
... Mother ! on earth it must still be so , Thou rearest the lovely to see them go ! They are moving onward , the bridal throng , Ye Ye may track their way by the swells of song ; may catch thro ' the foliage their white robes ' gleam ...
Side 34
... Woke , the starry hours to greet . But a voice of mortal wo , In its changes wild or low , Thro ' the midnight's blue repose , From the sea - beat rocks arose , As Eudora's mother stood Gazing o'er th ' Egean flood 34 RECORDS OF WOMAN .
... Woke , the starry hours to greet . But a voice of mortal wo , In its changes wild or low , Thro ' the midnight's blue repose , From the sea - beat rocks arose , As Eudora's mother stood Gazing o'er th ' Egean flood 34 RECORDS OF WOMAN .
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ARABELLA STUART art thou beautiful beneath bird bosom bow'd breast breath breeze bright bright land brightly brow cheek child Childe Harold dark dead death deep dream dust dwell earth Eudora Ev'n fair fear floating flowers forest fount gaze gentle glad glance gleam gloom glow gone grave green grief hair hath haunted heart heaven holy hour human voice hush'd JOANNA BAILLIE leaves light lip's lips lone look'd lov'd lyre MADAME DE STAEL mantle midst mother mournful murmur night o'er pale pass'd pour'd prayer press'd proud RHEIMS rose round Seem'd shade shadow silent silvery sleep smile soft solemn song soul sound spirit stood stream strong sunny sweet sword tears tender thee thine things thou art Thou hast thou wert Thou'rt thought thro tomb tone Twas unto voice wandering wave weep whisper wild wind woman's woods young youth
Populære passager
Side 265 - What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? — They sought a faith's pure shrine. Ay, call it holy ground, — The soil where first they trod! They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God ! Felicia Hemans.
Side 269 - Yet not to thine eternal resting-place Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings, The powerful of the earth — the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre.
Side 263 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Side 266 - And slight withal may be the things which bring Back on the heart the weight which it would fling Aside for ever : it may be a sound — A tone of music, — summer's eve — or spring, A flower — the wind — the Ocean — which shall wound, Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound ; XXIV.
Side 264 - Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth.
Side 171 - THE stately homes of England, How beautiful they stand, Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land ! The deer across their greensward bound Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream.
Side 242 - Content thee, boy, in my bower to dwell ! Here are sweet sounds, which thou lovest well ; Flutes on the air in the stilly noon, Harps which the wandering breezes tune ; And the silvery wood-note of many a bird, Whose voice was ne'er in thy mountains heard.
Side 202 - O good old man ; how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed ! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat, but for promotion; And having that, do choke their service up Even with the having: it is not so with thee.
Side 288 - BERNARD BARTON. BY the soft green light in the woody glade, On the banks of moss where thy childhood play'd, By the household tree through which thine eye First look'd in love to the summer sky, By the dewy gleam, by the very breath Of the primrose tufts in the grass beneath, Upon thy heart there is laid a spell, Holy and precious — oh ! guard it well...
Side 302 - One midst the forests of the West, By a dark stream, is laid; The Indian knows his place of rest Far in the cedar shade. The sea, the blue lone sea, hath one, He lies where pearls lie deep, He was the loved of all, yet none O'er his low bed may weep.