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ancient bids bless blest breathe bright called charm child claim close clouds Columbus comes dark dead dear deep delight dream earth face father fear feeling fire flowers flows gaze give glows gold 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 resigned rest rise round sacred says scene secret shade shed shine shore sigh silent sits sleep smile song soon soul speaks spirit spring stood sung sweet swell tears thee thine things thou thought thro trace triumphs truth turn Turner Twas voice wake wandering watch wave weep wild wind wings wish young youth
Page 15 - 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 45 - Lighter than air, Hope's summer-visions die, If but a fleeting cloud obscure the sky; If but a beam of sober Reason play, Lo, Fancy's fairy frost-work melts away ! But can the wiles of Art, the grasp of Power, Snatch the rich relics of a well-spent hour? These, when the trembling spirit wings her flight, 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 ! HUMAN LIFE.
Page 104 - On parent knees, a naked new-born child Weeping thou sat'st while all around thee smiled ; So live, that, sinking in thy last long sleep, Calm thou mayst smile, while all around thee weep.
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...
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 78 - How oft her eyes read his ; her gentle mind To all his wishes, all his thoughts inclined ; Still subject — ever on the watch jto borrow Mirth of his mirth, and sorrow of his sorrow.
Page 106 - ... an inward prompting, which now grew daily upon me, that by labour and intent study, (which I take to be my portion in this life,) joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written, to after-times, as they should not willingly let it die.
Page 101 - I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.
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. Around my ivied porch shall spring Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew; And Lucy at her wheel shall sing In russet gown and apron blue.
Page 38 - ... the pebbled floor, And on the front these simple lines it bore. Hence away, nor dare intrude ! In this secret, shadowy cell Musing MEMORY loves to dwell, With her sister Solitude. Far from the busy world she flies, To taste that peace the world denies. Entranced she sits ; from youth to age, Reviewing Life's eventful page ; And noting, ere they fade away, The little lines of yesterday.