The Complete Works of Henry Kirke White, with an Account of His Life

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N. H. Whitaker, 1837 - Poets, English - 420 pages

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Page 348 - He bowed the heavens also, and came down : and darkness was under His feet. And He rode upon a cherub, and did fly : yea, He did fly upon the wings of the wind.
Page 349 - Parts it may ravage, but preserves the whole. On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but Passion is the gale ; Nor God alone in the still calm we find, He mounts the storm, and walks upon the wind.
Page 126 - How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous, sweet, and fair.
Page 124 - It was my guide, my light, my all, It bade my dark forebodings cease; And through the storm and danger's thrall, It led me to the port of peace. Now safely moored, my perils o'er, I'll sing, first in night's diadem, For ever and for evermore, The Star, the Star of Bethlehem.
Page 349 - Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters, and maketh the clouds his chariot, and walketh upon the wings of the wind.
Page 198 - Twas thine own genius gave the final blow, And help'd to plant the wound that laid thee low. So the struck eagle...
Page 80 - Winter's sway, And dared the sturdy blusterer to the fight, Thee on this bank he threw To mark his victory. In this low vale, the promise of the year, Serene, thou openest to the nipping gale, Unnoticed and alone, Thy tender elegance. So virtue blooms, brought forth amid the storms Of chill adversity, in some lone walk Of life she rears her head, Obscure and unobserved; While every bleaching breeze that on her blows, Chastens her spotless purity of breast, And hardens her to bear Serene the ills...
Page 125 - VJO, lovely Rose, Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows When I resemble her to thee How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Page 28 - O'er Beauty's fall; Her praise resounds no more when mantled in her pall. The most beloved on earth Not long survives to-day; So music past is obsolete, And yet 'twas sweet, 'twas passing sweet, But now 'tis gone away. Thus does the shade In memory fade, When in forsaken tomb the form beloved is laid.
Page 85 - ... cheers the lands, And thou dost bear within thine awful hands The rolling thunders and the lightnings fleet. Stern on thy dark-wrought car of cloud, and wind, Thou guid'st the northern storm at night's dead noon, Or on the red wing of the fierce Monsoon, : / Disturb'st the sleeping giant of the Ind. In the drear silence of the polar span Dost thou repose ? or in the solitude Of sultry tracts, where the lone caravan Hears nightly howl the tiger's hungry brood ? Vain thought ! the confines of his...

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