Poems |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 52
Page 15
... night , Recalls the far - fled spirit of delight ; Instils that musing , melancholy mood , Which charms the wise , and elevates the good ; Blest MEMORY , hail ! Oh grant the grateful Muse , Her pencil dipt in Nature's living hues , To ...
... night , Recalls the far - fled spirit of delight ; Instils that musing , melancholy mood , Which charms the wise , and elevates the good ; Blest MEMORY , hail ! Oh grant the grateful Muse , Her pencil dipt in Nature's living hues , To ...
Page 24
... . Hark ! the bee winds her small but mellow horn , " Blithe to salute the sunny smile of morn . O'er thymy downs she bends her busy course , And many a stream allures her to its source . ' Tis noon , ' tis night . That eye 24.
... . Hark ! the bee winds her small but mellow horn , " Blithe to salute the sunny smile of morn . O'er thymy downs she bends her busy course , And many a stream allures her to its source . ' Tis noon , ' tis night . That eye 24.
Page 25
Samuel Rogers. ' Tis noon , ' tis night . That eye so finely wrought , Beyond the search of sense , the soar of thought , Now vainly asks the scenes she left behind ; Its orb so full , its vision so confined ! Who guides the patient ...
Samuel Rogers. ' Tis noon , ' tis night . That eye so finely wrought , Beyond the search of sense , the soar of thought , Now vainly asks the scenes she left behind ; Its orb so full , its vision so confined ! Who guides the patient ...
Page 32
... night With the mild magic of reflected light . The beauteous maid , who bids the world adieu , Oft of that world will snatch a fond review ; Oft at the shrine neglect her beads , to trace Some social scene , some dear , familiar face ...
... night With the mild magic of reflected light . The beauteous maid , who bids the world adieu , Oft of that world will snatch a fond review ; Oft at the shrine neglect her beads , to trace Some social scene , some dear , familiar face ...
Page 35
... night to Silence given , Whispering seraphic visions of her heaven . When the blithe son of Savoy , journeying round With humble wares and pipe of merry sound , From his green vale and sheltered cabin hies , And scales the Alps to visit ...
... night to Silence given , Whispering seraphic visions of her heaven . When the blithe son of Savoy , journeying round With humble wares and pipe of merry sound , From his green vale and sheltered cabin hies , And scales the Alps to visit ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
adieu age to age antient bids birds bless blest blush breast breathe bright Cacique calm CANTO charm clime Columbus controul Cortes courser dark dead deep delight desert shore dream echo Eumenides Euripides father fear fled fond frown gaze glory glows grave grove guavas hail hand heart heaven Hence Herrera hour human voice hung inspire Jacqueline light live lumbus Maximian melt MEMORY mighty Wind mind Muse night o'er once pensive pleasure rapture resigned rise rite round rude sacred sail says scene secret seraph shade shine shone shore sigh silent sleep smile song soon sooth sorrow soul sphere spirit spring steals sung sweet swell tears tempest thee thine thou thought thro trace trembling triumphs truth Twas vales VESPASIAN VIRGIL's tomb voice Voyage wake wave weep whence wild wind wings youth Zemi
Popular passages
Page 16 - Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain. Awake but one, and lo, what myriads rise ! * Each stamps its image as the other flies.
Page 134 - CHLOE'S eye ; Then, trembling, left its coral cell — The spring of Sensibility ! Sweet drop of pure and pearly light ! In thee the rays of Virtue shine ; More calmly clear, more mildly bright, Than any gem that gilds the mine.
Page 152 - MINE be a cot beside the hill, A bee-hive'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 103 - Tho' shut so close thy laughing eyes, Thy rosy lips still wear a smile, And move, and breathe delicious sighs ! — Ah, now soft blushes tinge her cheeks, And mantle o'er her neck of snow. Ah, now she murmurs, now she speaks What most I wish — and fear to know. She starts, she trembles, and she weeps ! Her fair hands folded on her breast. — And now, how like a saint she sleeps ! A seraph in the realms of rest ! Sleep on secure ! Above...
Page 40 - Than when the shades of time serenely fall On every broken arch and ivied wall; The tender images we love to trace, Steal from each year a melancholy grace ! And as the sparks of social love expand, As the heart opens in a foreign land; And, with a brother's warmth, a brother's smile, The stranger greets each native of his isle...
Page 163 - CHILD of the sun ! pursue thy rapturous flight, Mingling with her thou lov'st in fields of light; And, where the flowers of Paradise unfold, Quaff fragrant nectar from their cups of gold. There shall thy wings, rich as an evening sky, Expand and shut with silent ecstasy!
Page 83 - But little do men perceive what solitude is, and how far it extendeth. For a crowd is not company, and faces are but a gallery of pictures, and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love.
Page 12 - Her tattered mantle and her hood of straw ; Her moving lips, her caldron brimming o'er ; The drowsy brood that on her back she bore, Imps in the barn with mousing owlets bred, From rifled roost at nightly revel fed ; Whose dark eyes flashed through locks of blackest shade, When in the breeze the distant watch-dog bayed: And heroes fled the sibyl's muttered call, Whose elfin prowess scaled the orchard wall.
Page 248 - Young man, there is America, which at this day serves for little more than to amuse you with stories of savage men and uncouth manners ; yet shall, before you taste of death, show itself equal to the whole of that commerce which now attracts the envy of the world.
Page 31 - To view the fairy-haunts of long-lost hours, Blest with far greener shades, far fresher flowers. Ages and climes remote to Thee impart What charms in Genius, and refines in Art ; Thee, in whose hand the keys of Science dwell, The pensive portress of her holy cell ; Whose constant vigils chase the chilling damp Oblivion steals upon her vestal-lamp.