PoemsT. Cadell, and E. Moxon, 1834 - 295 pages |
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Page 10
... face with silent awe , Her tattered mantle , and her hood of straw ; Her moving lips , her caldron brimming o'er ; The drowsy brood that on her back she bore , Imps , in the barn with mousing owlet bred , From rifled roost at nightly ...
... face with silent awe , Her tattered mantle , and her hood of straw ; Her moving lips , her caldron brimming o'er ; The drowsy brood that on her back she bore , Imps , in the barn with mousing owlet bred , From rifled roost at nightly ...
Page 19
... face . The hoary grandsire smiles the hour away , Won by the raptures of a game at play ; He bends to meet each artless burst of joy , Forgets his age , and acts again the boy . What tho ' the iron school of War erase Each milder virtue ...
... face . The hoary grandsire smiles the hour away , Won by the raptures of a game at play ; He bends to meet each artless burst of joy , Forgets his age , and acts again the boy . What tho ' the iron school of War erase Each milder virtue ...
Page 21
... 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 ...
... 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 ...
Page 28
... face : And ere , with iron - tongue , the vesper - bell Bursts thro ' the cypress - walk , the convent - cell , Oft will her warm and wayward heart revive , To love and joy still tremblingly alive ; The whispered vow , the chaste caress ...
... face : And ere , with iron - tongue , the vesper - bell Bursts thro ' the cypress - walk , the convent - cell , Oft will her warm and wayward heart revive , To love and joy still tremblingly alive ; The whispered vow , the chaste caress ...
Page 38
... face ? Can VIRGIL'S verse , can RAPHAEL's touch impart Those finer features of the feeling heart , Those tend'rer tints that shun the careless eye , And in the world's contagious climate die ? She left the cave , nor marked the stranger ...
... face ? Can VIRGIL'S verse , can RAPHAEL's touch impart Those finer features of the feeling heart , Those tend'rer tints that shun the careless eye , And in the world's contagious climate die ? She left the cave , nor marked the stranger ...
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 resigned 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 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 19 - And hence the charm historic scenes impart : Hence Tiber awes, and Avon melts the heart.
Page 46 - 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 102 - 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 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 107 - I began thus far to assent both to them and divers of my friends here at home ; and not less to 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 102 - I have seen all the works that are done under the sun ; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.
Page 28 - 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.
Page 51 - Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses ; whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future predominate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings. Far from me and from my friends be such frigid philosophy, as may conduct us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow • warmer among...
Page 199 - The ring-dove builds and murmurs there; Close by my cot she tells her tale To every passing villager : The squirrel leaps from tree to tree, And shells his nuts at liberty. In orange groves and myrtle bowers, That breathe a gale of fragrance round, I charm the fairy-footed hours With my loved lute's romantic sound ; Or crowns of living laurel weave, For those that win the race at eve. The shepherd's horn at break of day, The ballet...