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Page 30
... dead hour of 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 ...
... dead hour of 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 ...
Page 34
... dead son the gallant ORMOND sighed . Thus , thro ' the gloom of SHENSTONE's fairy - grove , MARIA'S urn still breathes the voice of love . As the stern grandeur of a Gothic tower Awes us less deeply in its morning - hour , Than when the ...
... dead son the gallant ORMOND sighed . Thus , thro ' the gloom of SHENSTONE's fairy - grove , MARIA'S urn still breathes the voice of love . As the stern grandeur of a Gothic tower Awes us less deeply in its morning - hour , Than when the ...
Page 43
... 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 first their friendship grew , And heaven and nature opened to their ...
... 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 first their friendship grew , And heaven and nature opened to their ...
Page 58
... dead son the gallant ORMOND sighed . " I would not exchange my dead son , " said he , " for any living son in Christendom . " HUME . The same sentiment is inscribed on an urn at the Leasowes . 66 Heu , quanto minus est cum reliquis ...
... dead son the gallant ORMOND sighed . " I would not exchange my dead son , " said he , " for any living son in Christendom . " HUME . The same sentiment is inscribed on an urn at the Leasowes . 66 Heu , quanto minus est cum reliquis ...
Page 65
... dead , on the warm turf we lie , While many an emmet comes with curious eye ; And on her nest the watchful wren sits by ! Nor do we speak or move , or hear or see ; So like what once we were , and once again shall be ! And say , how ...
... dead , on the warm turf we lie , While many an emmet comes with curious eye ; And on her nest the watchful wren sits by ! Nor do we speak or move , or hear or see ; So like what once we were , and once again shall be ! And say , how ...
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Common terms and phrases
age to age ancient bids bless blest blush breathe bright called calm CANTO charm Cicero clouds Columbus controul Cortes courser dark dear delight desert shore dream Euripides father fear fled flowers fond gaze gentle glory glows grave grove hail hand hear heart Heaven Hence Herodotus Herrera Hist holy hope and fear hour human voice hung Icarius inspire light live look mighty Wind mind Muse night o'er once Petrarch pleasure rapture reign rise round sacred sail sate says scene secret seraph shade shadow shed shine shore sigh silent sire sleep smile song soon sorrow soul spirit spring steals stood sung sweet swell tears thee thine thou thought thro Tigranes trace trembling triumphs truth Twas vale VESPASIAN VIRGIL's tomb voice Voyage wake wandering wave weep whence wild wind wings young youth
Popular passages
Page 197 - 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 181 - Could crystallize this sacred treasure ! Long should it glitter near my heart, A secret source of pensive pleasure. The little brilliant, ere it fell, Its lustre caught from 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 44 - 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 113 - Though Somnus in Homer be sent to rouse up Agamemnon, I find no such effects in these drowsy approaches of sleep. To keep our eyes open longer were but to act our antipodes. The huntsmen are up in America, and they are already past their first sleep in Persia.
Page 105 - Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of the old man, and fear thy God : I am the LORD.
Page 101 - 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 27 - SWEET MEMORY, wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail, 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 hands 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.
Page 101 - 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 77 - Then before All they stand — the holy vow And ring of gold, no fond illusions now, Bind her as his. Across the threshold led, And every tear kissed off as soon as shed, His house she enters — there to be a light, Shining within, when all without is night ; A guardian-angel o'er his life presiding, Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing...
Page 35 - 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...