The Poetical Common-place Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of Standard and Fugitive Poetry, Including a Few Translations Hitherto Unpublished
John Anderson, 1822 - 388
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art thou beam beauty beneath billows black crows blast blest bloom bosom bower breast breath breeze bright charms cheek clouds cold dark dead dear death deep delight dread dream earth ev'ry Ev’n eyes fair farewell fate flowers fond Gelert gleam gloom glory glow grave green grief grove hail hast hath hear heart Heav'n HENRY KIRKE WHITE hill hour kiss kiss of Morn light lonely LORD BYRON lov’d love is dead lyre maid moon morn mountain mourn Muse ne'er night o'er pale rapture rill rose round scene shade shore sigh silent sleep slumber smile soft song sorrow soul sound spectre star Star of Bethlehem stream summer sweet tears tell tempest thee thine thou thought tomb tree trembling Twas vale voice wake wander wave weep wild wind wings woods youth
Strona 53 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Strona 187 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Strona 270 - When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulder flung, Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known...
Strona 247 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee...
Strona 235 - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out...
Strona 304 - Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.
Strona 189 - If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flatt'ry sooth the dull cold ear of Death...
Strona 229 - Can I forget the dismal night, that gave My soul's best part for ever to the grave! How silent did his old companions tread, By midnight lamps, the mansions of the dead, Through breathing statues, then unheeded things, Through rows of warriors, and through walks of kings!
Strona 85 - Erin, my country ! though sad and forsaken, In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore ; But, alas ! in a far foreign land I awaken, And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more ! Oh cruel fate ! wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace — where no perils can chase me?