Poems |
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Page 15
Each thrills the seat of sense , that sacred source Whence the fine nerves direct
their mazy course , And thro ' the frame invisibly convey The subtle , quick
vibrations as they play ; Man's little universe at once o'ercast , At once illumined
when ...
Each thrills the seat of sense , that sacred source Whence the fine nerves direct
their mazy course , And thro ' the frame invisibly convey The subtle , quick
vibrations as they play ; Man's little universe at once o'ercast , At once illumined
when ...
Page 65
How oft , as 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 oft , as 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 ...
Page 155
That very look thy mother wore When she implored , and old Le Roc consented .
True , I have done as well as suffered wrong : Yet once I loved him as my own ! -
Nor can'st thou , D'Arcy , feel resentment long ; For she herself shall plead , and I
...
That very look thy mother wore When she implored , and old Le Roc consented .
True , I have done as well as suffered wrong : Yet once I loved him as my own ! -
Nor can'st thou , D'Arcy , feel resentment long ; For she herself shall plead , and I
...
Page 171
Yet within thee , thyself a grove , Once did the eagle scream above , And the wolf
howl beneath . There once the steel - clad knight reclined , His sable plumage
tempest - tossed ; And , as the death - bell smote the wind , From towers long fled
...
Yet within thee , thyself a grove , Once did the eagle scream above , And the wolf
howl beneath . There once the steel - clad knight reclined , His sable plumage
tempest - tossed ; And , as the death - bell smote the wind , From towers long fled
...
Page 171
ΤΟ Vane , quid affectas faciem mihi ponere , pictor ? Aëris et linguĉ sum filia ; Et
, si vis similem pingere , pinge sonum . — AUSONIUS . ONCE more ,
Enchantress of the soul , Once more we hail thy soft controul . --Yet whither ,
whither didst ...
ΤΟ Vane , quid affectas faciem mihi ponere , pictor ? Aëris et linguĉ sum filia ; Et
, si vis similem pingere , pinge sonum . — AUSONIUS . ONCE more ,
Enchantress of the soul , Once more we hail thy soft controul . --Yet whither ,
whither didst ...
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ancient bids bless blest breathe bright called charm child claim close clouds Columbus comes dark dead deep delight dream earth face father fear feeling fire fled 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 moves Nature never night o'er once passed play pleasure pure reign rest rise round sacred says scene secret shade shed shine shore sigh silent sits sleep smile soon soul speaks spirit spring stood sung 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 112 - 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 17 - And hence the charm historic scenes impart : Hence Tiber awes, and Avon melts the heart.
Page 44 - 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 100 - 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 103 - 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 105 - 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 100 - I have seen all the works that are done under the sun ; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.
Page 26 - 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 49 - 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...
Bibliographic information
| Title | Poems |
| Author | Samuel Rogers |
| Illustrated by | Joseph Mallord William Turner, Thomas Stothard |
| Contributors | William Miller, Edward Goodall, William Finden, Robert Wallis, Daniel Allen, John Henry Le Keux, James Henry Watt |
| Publisher | T. Cadell, and E. Moxon, 1834 |
| Original from | the New York Public Library |
| Digitized | 2 Dec 2006 |
| Length | 295 pages |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |