The Poets of the Nineteenth CenturyRobert Aris Willmott, Evert Augustus Duyckinck |
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Page 3
... lonely gale , Young Edwin , lighted by the evening star , Lingering and listening , wander'd down the vale . There would he dream of graves and corses pale , And ghosts that to the charnel - dungeon throng , And drag a length of ...
... lonely gale , Young Edwin , lighted by the evening star , Lingering and listening , wander'd down the vale . There would he dream of graves and corses pale , And ghosts that to the charnel - dungeon throng , And drag a length of ...
Page 35
... lonely and rude as the scene , Her smile to that scene could impart A charm , that might rival the bloom of the vale- But away , thou fond dream of my heart ! From thy rocks , stormy Lannow , I fly ! Now the blasts of the winter come on ...
... lonely and rude as the scene , Her smile to that scene could impart A charm , that might rival the bloom of the vale- But away , thou fond dream of my heart ! From thy rocks , stormy Lannow , I fly ! Now the blasts of the winter come on ...
Page 51
... lonely walls To end my days I thought . " But haply , for my year of grace Is not yet pass'd away , Might I still hope to win thy love , No longer would I stay . " " Now farewell grief , and welcome joy Once more unto my heart ; For ...
... lonely walls To end my days I thought . " But haply , for my year of grace Is not yet pass'd away , Might I still hope to win thy love , No longer would I stay . " " Now farewell grief , and welcome joy Once more unto my heart ; For ...
Page 69
... , with this sadly - pleasing tear ! Oh , at this still , this lonely hour , Thine own sweet hour of closing day , Awake thy lute , whose charmful power Shall call up Fancy to obey ; TO MELANCHOLY . To paint the wild romantic dream ,. 69.
... , with this sadly - pleasing tear ! Oh , at this still , this lonely hour , Thine own sweet hour of closing day , Awake thy lute , whose charmful power Shall call up Fancy to obey ; TO MELANCHOLY . To paint the wild romantic dream ,. 69.
Page 70
... lonely spirit ! let thy song Lead me through all thy sacred haunt ; The minster's moonlight aisles along , Where spectres raise the midnight chaunt . I hear their dirges faintly swell ! Then sink at once in silence drear , While , from ...
... lonely spirit ! let thy song Lead me through all thy sacred haunt ; The minster's moonlight aisles along , Where spectres raise the midnight chaunt . I hear their dirges faintly swell ! Then sink at once in silence drear , While , from ...
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Common terms and phrases
BEACHY HEAD beam beauty bends beneath blue bosom bower breast breath breeze bright brow charms cheek cloud cold dark dead dear deep delight DEN BOSCH Ditto dread dream earth EPICURUS F. O. C. Darley fair fear FLORIO flowers fond friends gaze gentle gleam glory grave green grey hand hath heard heart heaven hill hour Kilmeny knew Lautaro LEWESDON HILL light living lonely look lov'd MARY TIGHE morning mortal decay murmurs never night o'er ocean old oaken bucket pride PRISONER OF CHILLON rocks round round the twisted scene seem'd shade shines shore sigh sight silent sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stood stout spurs stream summer sweet tears thee thine thou art thought tree trembling Twas vale voice wandering wave weep wild wind wings wood youth
Popular passages
Page 467 - This it is and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door: — Darkness there and nothing more.
Page 137 - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards : Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is no light Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
Page 138 - The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home. She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn. Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Page 137 - Darkling I listen; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod.
Page 441 - What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?' And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : ' I heard the water lapping on the crag, And the long ripple washing in the reeds.
Page 454 - Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a...
Page 155 - The stars of midnight shall be dear To her ; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
Page 442 - So might some old man speak in the aftertime To all the people, winning reverence. But now much honour and much fame were lost.
Page 20 - My boast is not, that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned and rulers of the earth ; But higher far my proud pretensions rise — The son of parents passed into the skies!
Page 192 - 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 winds do blow...