Attractions of Language, Or A Popular View of Natural Language: In All Its Varied Displays, in the Animate and Inanimate World; and as Corresponding with Instinct, Intelligence and Reason ...

Couverture
J. & D. Atwood, 1842 - 202 pages
 

Avis des internautes - Rédiger un commentaire

Aucun commentaire n'a été trouvé aux emplacements habituels.

Autres éditions - Tout afficher

Expressions et termes fréquents

Fréquemment cités

Page 94 - Lone wandering, but not lost. All day, thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land Though the dark night is near. And soon that toil shall end, Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, And scream among thy fellows ; reeds shall bend, Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest. Thou'rt gone; the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet, on my heart, Deeply has sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. He, who, from...
Page 94 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Page 90 - O'er thymy downs she bends her busy course, .... And many a stream allures her to its source. ' Tis noon, 'tis night. That eye so finely wrought, Beyond the search of sense, the soar of thought, Now vainly asks the scenes she left behind ; Its orb so full, its vision so confined! "Who guides the patient pilgrim to her cell ? Who bids her soul with conscious triumph swell ? With conscious truth retrace the mazy clue Of varied scents, that charmed her as she flew ? Hail, MEMORY, hail ! thy universal...
Page 94 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned At that far height, the cold thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Page 25 - IN Eastern lands they talk in flowers, And they tell in a garland their loves and cares ; Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers, On its leaves a mystic language bears.
Page 90 - ... speech.— And see, the master but returns to die! Yet who shall bid the watchful servant fly ? The blasts of...
Page 92 - Who sees with equal eye, as God of all, A hero perish, or a sparrow fall, Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd, And now a bubble burst, and now a world.
Page 56 - The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre, Still sing the God of Seasons...
Page 178 - Now strike the golden lyre again; A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. Break his bands of sleep asunder, And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark, the horrid sound Has raised up his head; As awaked from the dead, And amazed, he stares around. Revenge, revenge!
Page 90 - Ether's pathless wilds she goes, And lights at last where all her cares repose. Sweet bird ! thy truth shall Harlem's walls attest, And unborn ages consecrate thy nest.

Informations bibliographiques