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Page 10
Down by yon hazel copse , at evening , blazed The Gipsy's fagot — there we stood and gazed ; Gazed on her sun - burnt face with silent awe , Her tattered mantle , and her hood of straw ; Her moving lips , her caldron brimming o'er ...
Down by yon hazel copse , at evening , blazed The Gipsy's fagot — there we stood and gazed ; Gazed on her sun - burnt face with silent awe , Her tattered mantle , and her hood of straw ; Her moving lips , her caldron brimming o'er ...
Page 19
Say why the pensive widow loves to weep , When on her knee she rocks her babe to sleep : Tremblingly still , she lifts his veil to trace The father's features in his infant face . The hoary grandsire smiles the hour away , , Won by the ...
Say why the pensive widow loves to weep , When on her knee she rocks her babe to sleep : Tremblingly still , she lifts his veil to trace The father's features in his infant face . The hoary grandsire smiles the hour away , , Won by the ...
Page 21
Yes , tho ' the porter spurn him from the door , Tho ' all , that knew him , know his 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 !
Yes , tho ' the porter spurn him from the door , Tho ' all , that knew him , know his 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 !
Page 28
... Oft at the shrine neglect her beads , to trace Some social scene , some dear , familiar face : And ere , with iron - tongue , the vesper - bell , Bursts thro ' the cypress - walk , the convent - cell , Oft will her warm and wayward ...
... Oft at the shrine neglect her beads , to trace Some social scene , some dear , familiar face : And ere , with iron - tongue , the vesper - bell , Bursts thro ' the cypress - walk , the convent - cell , Oft will her warm and wayward ...
Page 38
Fair was her form — but who can hope to trace The pensive softness of her angel - 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 ...
Fair was her form — but who can hope to trace The pensive softness of her angel - 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 ...
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Common terms and phrases
ancient bids bless blest born breathe bright called charm child claim close clouds Columbus comes dark dead 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 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 song 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 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...