Poems, Volume 2 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 12
Page 12
Down by yon hazel copse , at evening , blazed The Gipsy's fagot - there we stood and gazed ; Gazed on her sun - burnt face with silent awe , Her tattered mantle , and her hood of straw ; Her moving lips , her caldron brimming o'er ...
Down by yon hazel copse , at evening , blazed The Gipsy's fagot - there we stood and gazed ; Gazed on her sun - burnt face with silent awe , Her tattered mantle , and her hood of straw ; Her moving lips , her caldron brimming o'er ...
Page 70
And now the volume on her knee has caught His wandering eye - now many a written thought Never to die , with many a lisping sweet His moving , murmuring lips endeavour to repeat . Released , he chases the bright butterfly ; Oh he would ...
And now the volume on her knee has caught His wandering eye - now many a written thought Never to die , with many a lisping sweet His moving , murmuring lips endeavour to repeat . Released , he chases the bright butterfly ; Oh he would ...
Page 153
And when , her fit of weeping o'er , Onward they moved a little space , And saw an old man sitting at the door , Saw his wan cheek , and sunken eye That seemed to gaze on vacancy , Then , at the sight of that beloved face , At once to ...
And when , her fit of weeping o'er , Onward they moved a little space , And saw an old man sitting at the door , Saw his wan cheek , and sunken eye That seemed to gaze on vacancy , Then , at the sight of that beloved face , At once to ...
Page 172
In vain ! the nurse that rusted relic wears , Nor moved by gold - nor to be moved by tears ; And terraced walls their black reflection throw On the green - mantled moat that sleeps below . A FAREWELL . 1800 . ONCE more , enchanting maid.
In vain ! the nurse that rusted relic wears , Nor moved by gold - nor to be moved by tears ; And terraced walls their black reflection throw On the green - mantled moat that sleeps below . A FAREWELL . 1800 . ONCE more , enchanting maid.
Page 179
Those lips so pure , that moved but to persuade , Still to the last enlivened and endeared . Those eyes at once her secret soul conveyed , And ever beamed delight when you appeared . Yet has she fled the life of bliss below ...
Those lips so pure , that moved but to persuade , Still to the last enlivened and endeared . Those eyes at once her secret soul conveyed , And ever beamed delight when you appeared . Yet has she fled the life of bliss below ...
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
ancient bids bless blest born breathe bright called charm child close clouds Columbus comes dark dead dear deep delight dream earth face father fear feeling fire flowers flows gaze give glows gold gone grave green grove half hand hear heart Heaven Hence Hist hope hour inspire land leaves light live look lost meet MEMORY mind moved Nature never night o'er once passed play pleasure pure resigned rest rise round sacred says scene secret shade shed shine shore sigh silent sits sleep smile song soon soul speaks spirit spring stood sweet swell tears thee thine things thou thought thro trace triumphs truth turn Twas voice wake wandering watch wave weep wild wind wings wish 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...