The Pleasures of Memory, with Other Poems |
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Page 10
... dreams of innocent repose . All , all are fled ; yet still I linger here ! What pensive sweets this silent spot endear ? Mark yon old Mansion , frowning thro ' the trees , Whose hollow turret wooes the whistling breeze . That casement ...
... dreams of innocent repose . All , all are fled ; yet still I linger here ! What pensive sweets this silent spot endear ? Mark yon old Mansion , frowning thro ' the trees , Whose hollow turret wooes the whistling breeze . That casement ...
Page 16
... dreams ! Down by yon hazel copse , at evening , blaz'd The Gipsy's faggot - there we stood and gaz'd ; Gaz'd on her sun - burnt face with silent awe , Her tatter'd mantle , and her hood of straw ; Her moving lips , her caldron brimming ...
... dreams ! Down by yon hazel copse , at evening , blaz'd The Gipsy's faggot - there we stood and gaz'd ; Gaz'd on her sun - burnt face with silent awe , Her tatter'd mantle , and her hood of straw ; Her moving lips , her caldron brimming ...
Page 42
... dreams of happiness confest . Not till the rushing winds forget to rave , Is heav'n's sweet smile reflected on the wave . From Guinea's coast pursue the lessening sail , And catch the sounds that sadden every gale . Tell , if thou canst ...
... dreams of happiness confest . Not till the rushing winds forget to rave , Is heav'n's sweet smile reflected on the wave . From Guinea's coast pursue the lessening sail , And catch the sounds that sadden every gale . Tell , if thou canst ...
Page 64
... dream that charm'd her vacant hours ! Oft may the spirits of the dead descend , To watch the silent slumbers of a friend ; To hover round his evening - walk unseen , And hold sweet converse on the dusky green ; To hail the spot where ...
... dream that charm'd her vacant hours ! Oft may the spirits of the dead descend , To watch the silent slumbers of a friend ; To hover round his evening - walk unseen , And hold sweet converse on the dusky green ; To hail the spot where ...
Page 108
... dream my pillow flies , To waking sense what brighter visions rise ! O mark ! again the coursers of the Sun , e At GUIDO's call , their round of glory run ! Again the rosy Hours resume their flight , Obscur'd and lost in floods of ...
... dream my pillow flies , To waking sense what brighter visions rise ! O mark ! again the coursers of the Sun , e At GUIDO's call , their round of glory run ! Again the rosy Hours resume their flight , Obscur'd and lost in floods of ...
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Common terms and phrases
adieu Æneid bee-hives bids blest blush breast breath'd breathe bright calm cell charm charm'd Chas'd Cicero clime clouds confest controul coursers delight dreams dusky dwell echoes faded Fancy's feeling fled flings flows fond gale gaz'd gilds glows Gout grove hail hanging wood Hark heart Heath heav'n Hence Hist hues hung inspires iron tongue light lisp live lov'd lustre magic Maximian melts mind mould Muse native NAVARRE night NOTE C. P. NOTE f o'er pensive PLEASURES OF MEMORY PLUT rapture resign'd rise round rude sacred scene seraphic shade shadowy shed shine sigh silent sleep smile soft song sooth soul sphere spirit spring steals Stothard sweet swell tears thee thine thou thought thro trace trembling triumphs truth Twas twilight vale vengeance rise Venice VESPASIAN Virtue wake wave weep wild wing youth
Popular passages
Page 65 - Pour round her path a stream of living light ; And gild those pure and perfect realms of rest, Where virtue triumphs, and her sons are blest ! SAMUEL ROGERS.
Page 28 - Tho' all, that knew him, know his face no more, His faithful dog shall tell his joy to each, With that mute eloquence which passes speech.— And see, the master but returns to die! Yet who shall bid the watchful servant fly ? The blasts of heaven, the drenching dews of earth, The wanton insults of unfeeling mirth, These, when to guard Misfortune's sacred grave, Will firm Fidelity exult to brave.
Page 15 - To soothe and sweeten all the cares we know ; Whose glad suggestions still each vain alarm, When nature fades and life forgets to charm; Thee would the Muse invoke! — to thee belong The sage's precept and the poet's song. What softened views thy magic glass reveals, When o'er the landscape Time's meek twilight steals!
Page 157 - That very law* which moulds a tear, And bids it trickle from its source, — That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course.
Page 152 - Still, still he views the parting look she gave. Her gentle spirit, lightly hovering o'er, Attends his little bark from pole to pole ; And, when the beating billows round him roar, Whispers sweet hope to soothe his troubled soul. Carved is her name in many a spicy grove, In many a plantain-forest, waving wide ; Where dusky youths in painted plumage rove, And giant palms o'er-arch the golden tide.
Page 20 - 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. Each, as the various avenues of sense Delight or sorrow to the soul dispense, Brightens or fades; yet all, with magic art, Controul the latent fibres of the heart.
Page 178 - She sports her lovely face at public places ; And with blue, laughing eyes, behind her fan, First acts her part with that great actor, MAN. Too soon a flirt, approach her and she flies...
Page 64 - When thy last look, ere thought and feeling fled, A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed ; What to thy soul its glad assurance gave, Its hope in death, its triumph o'er the grave ? The sweet Remembrance of unblemished youth, The still inspiring voice of Innocence and Truth...
Page 163 - Mark'd by the wild wolf for his prey, From desert cave or hanging wood. And while the torrent thunders loud, And as the echoing cliffs reply, The huts peep o'er the morning cloud, Perch'd, like an eagle's nest, on high. THE BOY OF EOREMOND. " Say, what remains when Hope is fled*'' She answer'd, " Endless weeping !" For in the herdsman's eye she read Who in his shroud lay sleeping.
Page 14 - Childhood's loved group revisits every scene, — The tangled wood-walk, and the tufted green. Indulgent MEMORY wakes, and, lo, they live, Clothed with far softer hues than Light can give.