Gems of the Modern Poets: With Biographical NoticesCarey and Hart, 1842 - 408 sider |
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Side 43
... sorrow of neglect from him Whom she had loved so dearly . Once he wrote , But only once that drop of comfort came To m ngle with her cup of wretchedness ; And when his parents had some tidings from him , There was no mention of poor ...
... sorrow of neglect from him Whom she had loved so dearly . Once he wrote , But only once that drop of comfort came To m ngle with her cup of wretchedness ; And when his parents had some tidings from him , There was no mention of poor ...
Side 62
... sorrow and poverty , or pulling flowers like a child in a field , or pitching himself back into the depths of time and space , and dis- coursing with the first forms and gigantic shadows of creation ; he is alike in earnest , and AT ...
... sorrow and poverty , or pulling flowers like a child in a field , or pitching himself back into the depths of time and space , and dis- coursing with the first forms and gigantic shadows of creation ; he is alike in earnest , and AT ...
Side 78
... sorrows hath she of her own , My hope , my joy , my Genevieve ! She loves me best , whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve . I played a soft and doleful air , I sang an old and moving story- An old rude song that fitted well The ...
... sorrows hath she of her own , My hope , my joy , my Genevieve ! She loves me best , whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve . I played a soft and doleful air , I sang an old and moving story- An old rude song that fitted well The ...
Side 81
... sorrows , ) he and such as he First named these notes a melancholy strain : And many a poet echoes the conceit ; Poet , who hath been building up the rhyme When he had better far have stretched his limbs Beside a brook in mossy forest ...
... sorrows , ) he and such as he First named these notes a melancholy strain : And many a poet echoes the conceit ; Poet , who hath been building up the rhyme When he had better far have stretched his limbs Beside a brook in mossy forest ...
Side 99
... was I born To die as soon ? To love my mother , and to die- To perish in my bloom ! Is this my sad , brief history ! — A tear dropped from a mother's eye Into the tomb . He lived and loved - will sorrow say— By early ELLIOTT . 99.
... was I born To die as soon ? To love my mother , and to die- To perish in my bloom ! Is this my sad , brief history ! — A tear dropped from a mother's eye Into the tomb . He lived and loved - will sorrow say— By early ELLIOTT . 99.
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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
Populære passager
Side 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.
Side 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.
Side 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.
Side 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.
Side 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...
Side 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.
Side 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...
Side 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.
Side 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...
Side 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.