The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Rogers
Phillips, Sampson, 1854 - 460 pages
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admirable ancient appeared beautiful better breathe bright called changed child close clouds comes dark dead death delight door dream earth entered eyes face father fear feeling flowers followed forever forms gazed give gold gone grave grove half hand hear heard heart heaven hope hour human Italy land leave length less light live look Lord lost manner mind morning moved nature never night o'er once passed perhaps picture play pleasure poem poet received reflection rest rich rise Rogers round sacred says scene seen sigh silent sitting sleep smile song soon soul speak spirit stand step stood sweet tears thee things thou thought turned VENICE voice walls wander waters wave wild wind written young youth
Page 222 - MINE be a cot beside the hill ; A beehive's hum shall soothe my ear ; A willowy brook that turns a mill, With many a fall shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch Shall twitter from her clay-built nest ; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest.
Page 325 - Stop at a palace near the Reggio-gate, Dwelt in of old by one of the Orsini. Its noble gardens, terrace above terrace, And rich in fountains, statues, cypresses, Will long detain...
Page 205 - Cabrieres which till then he neglected it is therefore Death alone that can suddenly make man to know himself he tells the proud and insolent that they are but abjects and humbles them at the instant makes them cry complain and repent yea even to hate their...
Page 446 - There it was that I found and visited the famous Galileo, grown old, a prisoner to the Inquisition, for thinking in astronomy otherwise than the Franciscan and Dominican licensers thought.
Page 205 - O eloquent, just, and mighty Death ! whom none could advise, thou hast persuaded ; what none hath dared, thou hast done ; and whom all the world hath flattered, thou only hast cast out of the world and despised ; thou hast drawn together all the far-stretched greatness, all the pride, cruelty, and ambition of man, and covered it all over with these two narrow words, Hie jacet...
Page 327 - Orsini lived ; and long might'st thou have seen An old man wandering as in quest of something, Something he could not find — he knew not what.
Page 56 - Life ! we've been long together Through pleasant and through cloudy weather ; 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear — Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear ; — Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time ; Say not Good Night,— but in some brighter clime Bid me Good Morning.
Page 404 - Awful memorials, but of whom we know not ! The seaman, passing, gazes from the deck. The buffalo-driver, in his shaggy cloak, Points to the work of magic and moves on. Time was they stood along the crowded street, Temples of gods ! and on their ample steps What various habits, various tongues, beset The brazen gates for prayer and sacrifice...
Page 207 - ... labour and intent study, which I take to be my portion in- this life, joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written to after-times, as they should not willingly let it die.
Page 28 - Ward has no heart, they say; but I deny it ; He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it.