Records of Woman, and Other PoemsWilliam Blackwood and Sons, 1850 - 270 sider |
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Side 12
... woods with the citron - flowers , Come with your lyres for the festal hours , Maids of bright Scio ! They came , and the breeze Bore their sweet songs o'er the Grecian seas ; They came , and Eudora stood robed and crowned The bride of ...
... woods with the citron - flowers , Come with your lyres for the festal hours , Maids of bright Scio ! They came , and the breeze Bore their sweet songs o'er the Grecian seas ; They came , and Eudora stood robed and crowned The bride of ...
Side 15
... wood , With the soft green light o'er its low roof spread , As if from the glow of an emerald shed , Pouring through lime - leaves that mingled on high , Asleep in the silence of noon's clear sky . Citrons amidst their dark foliage ...
... wood , With the soft green light o'er its low roof spread , As if from the glow of an emerald shed , Pouring through lime - leaves that mingled on high , Asleep in the silence of noon's clear sky . Citrons amidst their dark foliage ...
Side 16
... wood - scene . Bring wine , bring odours ! —the board is spread ; Bring roses ! a chaplet for every head ! The wine - cups ... woods with the shriek of the maidens rang ; THE BRIDE OF THE GREEK ISLE Under the golden - 16 RECORDS OF WOMAN.
... wood - scene . Bring wine , bring odours ! —the board is spread ; Bring roses ! a chaplet for every head ! The wine - cups ... woods with the shriek of the maidens rang ; THE BRIDE OF THE GREEK ISLE Under the golden - 16 RECORDS OF WOMAN.
Side 37
... ; She had bowed heavily her gentle head , 37 And on the youth's hushed bosom sunk to rest . So slept they well ! -the poison's work was done : Love with true heart had striven - but Death had won . EDITH A TALE OF THE WOODS * " Du Heilige.
... ; She had bowed heavily her gentle head , 37 And on the youth's hushed bosom sunk to rest . So slept they well ! -the poison's work was done : Love with true heart had striven - but Death had won . EDITH A TALE OF THE WOODS * " Du Heilige.
Side 38
... Woods - oh ! solemn are the boundless woods Of the great Western World when day declines , And louder sounds the roll of distant floods , More deep the rustling of the ancient pines . When dimness gathers on the stilly air , And mystery ...
... Woods - oh ! solemn are the boundless woods Of the great Western World when day declines , And louder sounds the roll of distant floods , More deep the rustling of the ancient pines . When dimness gathers on the stilly air , And mystery ...
Andre udgaver - Se alle
Almindelige termer og sætninger
ARABELLA STUART art thou banners bard beauty beneath bird blue bosom bowers breast breath breeze bright brow CADER IDRIS CASWALLON cheek child cloud crown dark dead death deep dream dwell earth fair FAIR ISLE farewell fear flowers gaze gentle glad glance gleam gloom glory glow GLYNDWR'S gone grave green grief Gwynedd hall harp hath heart heaven hills holy hour hushed JOANNA BAILLIE leaves light Llywarch Hen lone look lyre midst mother mournful murmur night o'er OWAIN CYFEILIOG pale passed planxty poured proud ringdove rose round shadow shining silent singing sleep smile Snowdon soft solemn song soul sound spirit star stood storm stream strong sunny sweet swell sword tears thee thine thou art Thou hast Thou'rt thought tomb tone Twas unto voice wandering warriors wave weep Welsh whisper wild winds woods young
Populære passager
Side 143 - Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted came; Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame; Not as the flying come, In silence and in fear; They shook the depths of the desert gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer. Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free. The ocean eagle soared From his nest by the white waves' foam; And the rocking pines of the forest roared—...
Side 192 - HAIL to thee, blithe spirit ! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
Side 135 - We roll In light and power on high ; But, of the never-dying soul, Ask that which cannot die.
Side 164 - O'er each fair sleeping brow ; She had each folded flower in sight, — Where are those dreamers now ? 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.
Side 96 - Through glowing orchards forth they peep, Each from its nook of leaves ; And fearless there the lowly sleep, As the bird beneath their eaves.
Side 142 - 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. Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted came, Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame...
Side 163 - THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD. THEY grew in beauty side by side. They filled one home with glee ; Their graves are severed far and wide, By mount, and stream, and sea.
Side 164 - ... O'er his low bed may weep. One sleeps where southern vines are drest Above the noble slain : He wrapt his colours round his breast On a blood-red field of Spain. And one — o'er her the myrtle showers Its leaves, by soft winds fanned ; She faded 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...
Side 134 - And what have ye found in the monarch's dome, Since last ye traversed the blue sea's foam ?— " We have found a change, we have found a pall, And a gloom o'ershadowing the banquet's hall, And a mark on the floor as of life-drops spilt— Nought looks the same, save the nest we built!
Side 159 - Rome, Rome ! thou art no more As thou hast been ! Rome ! thine imperial brow Never shall rise : What hast thou left thee now ? — Thou hast thy skies ! Blue, deeply blue, they are.