The Poetical MelangeG. A. Douglas, 1828 |
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Pagina x
... memory of a young Lady , • Verses , Virtue , Uncertainty of Life , Walking with God , Anon . 25 H. K. White 232 · H. K. White 127 • Anon . 32 . • Anon . • 253 Princess Amelia 47 Herbert 101 Cowper 92 What is Life ? What is Time ...
... memory of a young Lady , • Verses , Virtue , Uncertainty of Life , Walking with God , Anon . 25 H. K. White 232 · H. K. White 127 • Anon . 32 . • Anon . • 253 Princess Amelia 47 Herbert 101 Cowper 92 What is Life ? What is Time ...
Pagina 1
... memory , Methinks I hear his voice ! sweet as the breath Of balmy ground - flowers stealing from some spot Of sunshine sacred , in a gloomy wood , To everlasting spring . In the church - yard Where now he sleeps - the day before he died ...
... memory , Methinks I hear his voice ! sweet as the breath Of balmy ground - flowers stealing from some spot Of sunshine sacred , in a gloomy wood , To everlasting spring . In the church - yard Where now he sleeps - the day before he died ...
Pagina 5
... memory , And feed the light of his dying eye . That mute request too well we knew , And our plighted words we passed , That his loved of home should learn how true His heart was till the last , That his mother might ponder with grateful ...
... memory , And feed the light of his dying eye . That mute request too well we knew , And our plighted words we passed , That his loved of home should learn how true His heart was till the last , That his mother might ponder with grateful ...
Pagina 7
... memory to grief , like a Syren sings . His home had been on the stormy shore Of Albyn's mountain land , His ear was tuned to the breaker's roar , And he loved the bleak sea sand , And the torrent's din , and the howling breeze Had all ...
... memory to grief , like a Syren sings . His home had been on the stormy shore Of Albyn's mountain land , His ear was tuned to the breaker's roar , And he loved the bleak sea sand , And the torrent's din , and the howling breeze Had all ...
Pagina 8
... Consumption's hectic plague - spot told A tale of a broken heart . The boy knew he was dying , but the sleep Of death is bliss to those that watch and weep . ' He died — but memory's wizard power With its ghostlike 8 THE POETICAL MELANGE .
... Consumption's hectic plague - spot told A tale of a broken heart . The boy knew he was dying , but the sleep Of death is bliss to those that watch and weep . ' He died — but memory's wizard power With its ghostlike 8 THE POETICAL MELANGE .
Inhoudsopgave
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Overige edities - Alles bekijken
The Poetical Melange. [Compiled by G. A. Douglas.], Volume 2 George A. Douglas Volledige weergave - 1828 |
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
Anon beam beauty beneath blessed blest bliss bloom bosom bower breast breath bright brow Byron calm charm cheek child clouds cold Cumnor dark dead dear death deep doom dream dust earth eternal fade fair Farewell father fear feel fled flowers frae gazed glory glowing gone grave grief harp hast hath heart heaven Helvellyn hope hour John Malcolm Kilmeny land life's light lisp live lonely look LORD BYRON Mariamne MINSTREL BOY morning mortal mother mountain mourn ne'er never night o'er peace perished band praise prayer rapture rest rose round Samian wine scene seraph shade shed shining book shore sigh silent skies sleep slumber smile song sorrow soul spirit star sweet tears tempest thee thine thou art thought tomb trembling Twas twill vile bands voice wave ween weep wept wild winds wing youth
Populaire passages
Pagina 131 - ALL thoughts,' all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve...
Pagina 24 - Tis now become a history little known, That once we call'd the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession ! but the record fair, That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Pagina 85 - The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse : Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further west Than your sires'
Pagina 222 - Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, So sweet, we know not we are listening to it, Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my Thought, Yea, with my Life and Life's own secret joy: Till the dilating Soul, enrapt, transfused, Into the mighty vision passing — there As in her natural form, swelled vast to Heaven.
Pagina 85 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earned.
Pagina 37 - Then shook the hills with thunder riven, Then rushed the steed to battle driven, And louder than the bolts of heaven Far flashed the red artillery. But redder yet that light shall glow On Linden's hills of stained snow, And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulph'rous canopy.
Pagina 166 - Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings.
Pagina 37 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Pagina 62 - If aught should tempt my soul to stray From heavenly wisdom's narrow way ; To fly the good I would pursue, Or do the sin I would not do ; Still He, who felt temptation's power, Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.
Pagina 22 - THAT those lips had language ! Life has passed With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine — thy own sweet smile I see, The same, that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, " Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away...