The Complete Works of Henry Kirke White: With an Account of His Life |
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Page 7
... o'er the globe , They were set down with sober steadiness , Each to his occupation . I alone , A wayward youth , misled by Fancy's vagaries , Remain'd unsettled , insecure , and veering With every wind to ev'ry point o ' th ' compass ...
... o'er the globe , They were set down with sober steadiness , Each to his occupation . I alone , A wayward youth , misled by Fancy's vagaries , Remain'd unsettled , insecure , and veering With every wind to ev'ry point o ' th ' compass ...
Page 15
... o'er the wintry desert drear To waft thy waste perfume ! Come , thou shalt form my nosegay now , And I will bind thee round my brow ; And as I twine the mournful wreath , I'll weave a melancholy song : And sweet the strain shall be and ...
... o'er the wintry desert drear To waft thy waste perfume ! Come , thou shalt form my nosegay now , And I will bind thee round my brow ; And as I twine the mournful wreath , I'll weave a melancholy song : And sweet the strain shall be and ...
Page 16
... o'er my ashes shed . TO THE MORNING . Written during illness . BEAMS of the day - break faint ! I hail Your dubious hues , as on the robe Of night , which wraps the slumbering globe , I mark your traces pale . Tired with the taper's ...
... o'er my ashes shed . TO THE MORNING . Written during illness . BEAMS of the day - break faint ! I hail Your dubious hues , as on the robe Of night , which wraps the slumbering globe , I mark your traces pale . Tired with the taper's ...
Page 17
... o'er the spangled uplands tread ; Now through the custom'd wood - walk wend ; By many a green lane lies my way , Where high o'er head the wild briers bend , Till on the mountain's summit gray , I sit me down and mark the glorious dawn ...
... o'er the spangled uplands tread ; Now through the custom'd wood - walk wend ; By many a green lane lies my way , Where high o'er head the wild briers bend , Till on the mountain's summit gray , I sit me down and mark the glorious dawn ...
Page 18
... o'er , Fate dooms , ere long , the scene must close To ope on him no more . Yet , Morning ! unrepining still He'll greet thy beams awhile ; And surely thou , when o'er his grave Solemn the whisp'ring willows wave , Wilt sweetly on him ...
... o'er , Fate dooms , ere long , the scene must close To ope on him no more . Yet , Morning ! unrepining still He'll greet thy beams awhile ; And surely thou , when o'er his grave Solemn the whisp'ring willows wave , Wilt sweetly on him ...
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Common terms and phrases
art thou bliss breast BROTHER NEVILLE calm Capel Lofft Catton charms Christian Clifton Grove dark DEAR NEVILLE death delight divine dost eternal fear feel gale genius give gloom Gondoline grace grave Greek H. K. WHITE hand happy harp hear heard heart Heaven Henry HENRY KIRKE WHITE holy Honington honors hope hour JOHN CHARLESWORTH John's JOSIAH CONder leave letter light live lonely lyre melancholy mind moon morning mortal mother mournful muse nature never night Nottingham o'er pain pale peace pensive pleasure poems poet prayer Pythagoras Quatorzain religion round scene sigh silent sing sleep smile solemn song sonnet soon sorrow soul sound spirit sublime sweet tear tell thee thine things thou thought throne tion vale verses virtues wandering wave weep wild winds Winteringham wish write written young youth
Popular passages
Page 346 - He bowed the heavens also, and came down : and darkness was under His feet. And He rode upon a cherub, and did fly : yea, He did fly upon the wings of the wind.
Page 126 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
Page 124 - Hark ! hark ! to God the chorus breaks, From every host, from every gem ; But one alone the Saviour speaks, It is the star of Bethlehem.
Page 196 - Twas thine own genius gave the final blow, And help'd to plant the wound that laid thee low. So the struck eagle...
Page 123 - LORD, another day is flown, And we, a lonely band, Are met once more before thy throne, To bless thy fostering hand. And wilt thou bend a listening ear, To praises low as ours ? Thou wilt ! for thou dost love to hear The song which meekness pours.
Page 353 - Tis she ! — but why that bleeding bosom gor'd ' Why dimly gleams the visionary sword ? Oh ever beauteous, ever friendly ! tell, Is it in heaven a crime to love too well ? To bear too tender or too firm a heart, To act a Lover's or a Roman's part ? Is there no bright reversion in the sky For those...
Page 282 - We know whom we have believed, and are persuaded that he is able to keep that which we have committed unto him against that day.
Page 80 - twill well contain The ideal flights of Madam Brain. No dungeon's walls, no cell confined, Can cramp the energies of mind ! I've friends, and 'twill contain them all ; And should it e'er become so cold That these it will no longer hold, No more may Heaven her blessings give, I shall not then be fit to live. TO AN EARLY PRIMROSE.
Page 128 - IT is not that my lot is low, That bids this silent tear to flow ; It is not grief that bids me moan, It is that I am all alone. In woods and glens I love to roam, When the tired hedger hies him home, Or by the woodland pool to rest, When pale the star looks on its breast. Yet when the silent evening sighs, With hallowed airs and symphonies, My spirit takes another tone, And sighs that it is all alone.
Page 352 - Graces breathe, And happiest art adorn his Attic page; Yet does my mind with sweeter transport glow, As at the root of mossy trunk reclin'd, In magic SPENSER'S wildly-warbled song I see deserted Una wander wide Thro...