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Page 83
And with sweet tears and gentle words infusing The holy calm that leads to
heavenly musing . -But hark , the din of arms ! no time for sorrow . To horse , to
horse ! A day of blood to - morrow ! One parting pang , and then — and then I fly ,
Fly to ...
And with sweet tears and gentle words infusing The holy calm that leads to
heavenly musing . -But hark , the din of arms ! no time for sorrow . To horse , to
horse ! A day of blood to - morrow ! One parting pang , and then — and then I fly ,
Fly to ...
Page 141
And who but she could soothe the boy , Or turn his tears to tears of joy ? Long
had she kissed him as he slept , Long o'er his pillow hung and wept ; And , as
she passed her father's door , She stood as she would stir no more . But she is
gone ...
And who but she could soothe the boy , Or turn his tears to tears of joy ? Long
had she kissed him as he slept , Long o'er his pillow hung and wept ; And , as
she passed her father's door , She stood as she would stir no more . But she is
gone ...
Page 171
Love , under Friendship's vesture white , Laughs , his little limbs concealing ; And
oft in sport , and oft in spite , Like Pity meets the dazzled sight , Smiles thro ' his
tears revealing . But now as Rage the God appears ! He frowns , and tempests ...
Love , under Friendship's vesture white , Laughs , his little limbs concealing ; And
oft in sport , and oft in spite , Like Pity meets the dazzled sight , Smiles thro ' his
tears revealing . But now as Rage the God appears ! He frowns , and tempests ...
Page 171
Well may you sit within , and , fond of grief , Look in each other's face , and melt in
tears . Well may you shun all counsel , all relief . Oh she was great in mind , tho '
young in years ! Changed is that lovely countenance , which shed Light when ...
Well may you sit within , and , fond of grief , Look in each other's face , and melt in
tears . Well may you shun all counsel , all relief . Oh she was great in mind , tho '
young in years ! Changed is that lovely countenance , which shed Light when ...
Page 246
Who now , condemned the lingering hours to tell , Think and but think of those
they loved so well ! ” All melt in tears ! but what can tears avail ? These climb the
mast , and shift the swelling sail . These snatch the helm ; and round me now I
hear ...
Who now , condemned the lingering hours to tell , Think and but think of those
they loved so well ! ” All melt in tears ! but what can tears avail ? These climb the
mast , and shift the swelling sail . These snatch the helm ; and round me now I
hear ...
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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...