Gems of the Modern Poets: With Biographical NoticesCarey and Hart, 1842 - 408 |
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Strona 22
... breathing balm , — And hers the silence and the calm Of mute insensate things . ' The floating clouds their state shall lend To her , for her the willow bend ; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the storm , Grace that ...
... breathing balm , — And hers the silence and the calm Of mute insensate things . ' The floating clouds their state shall lend To her , for her the willow bend ; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the storm , Grace that ...
Strona 31
... breath , And tears , and tortures , and the touch of joy : They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts , They take a weight from off our waking toils , They do divide our being ; they become A portion of ourselves as of our time , And ...
... breath , And tears , and tortures , and the touch of joy : They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts , They take a weight from off our waking toils , They do divide our being ; they become A portion of ourselves as of our time , And ...
Strona 32
... breath , no being , but in hers : She was his voice ; -he did not speak to her , But trembled on her words : she was his sight , For his eye follow'd hers , and saw with hers , Which colour'd all his objects ; —he had ceased To live ...
... breath , no being , but in hers : She was his voice ; -he did not speak to her , But trembled on her words : she was his sight , For his eye follow'd hers , and saw with hers , Which colour'd all his objects ; —he had ceased To live ...
Strona 55
... breath ; And life ne'er looked more truly bright Than in thy smile of death , Mary ! As streams that run o'er golden mines , Yet humbly , calmly glide , Nor seem to know the wealth that shines Within their MOORE . 55 24 2 saw thy Form ...
... breath ; And life ne'er looked more truly bright Than in thy smile of death , Mary ! As streams that run o'er golden mines , Yet humbly , calmly glide , Nor seem to know the wealth that shines Within their MOORE . 55 24 2 saw thy Form ...
Strona 85
... breathing here . And this sweet bed of heath , my dear ! Swells up , then sinks with fain caress , As if to have you yet more near . Eight springs have flown , since last I lay On sea - ward Quantock's heathy hills , Where quiet sounds ...
... breathing here . And this sweet bed of heath , my dear ! Swells up , then sinks with fain caress , As if to have you yet more near . Eight springs have flown , since last I lay On sea - ward Quantock's heathy hills , Where quiet sounds ...
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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
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 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.
Strona 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.
Strona 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.
Strona 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.
Strona 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...
Strona 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.
Strona 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...
Strona 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.
Strona 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...
Strona 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.