Wat mensen zeggen - Een review schrijven
We hebben geen reviews gevonden op de gebruikelijke plaatsen.
Overige edities - Alles weergeven
The Poetical Register, and Repository of Fugitive Poetry for 1801-11, Volume 5
Volledige weergave - 1807
arms beam beauty bend beneath bosom breast breath bright charms cold dark dear death deep dread earth EPIGRAM fair fame Fancy fate fear feel fire flow fond gentle give glow grace grave green hand head hear heart Heaven hill hope hour land late leave light lines live look maid mind morning mourn Muse Nature never night o'er once pain pale peace plain pleasure poem poor praise pride rest rise round sacred scene shade shore sigh sleep smile soft song SONNET sons sorrow soul sound spirit spring storm strain stream sweet tear tell tender thee thine thou thought thro toil vain vale verse virtue voice wave wild winds wing woods youth
Pagina 229 - 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 400 - Why did all-creating Nature Make the plant for which we toil — Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters, iron-hearted, Lolling at your jovial boards ; Think how many backs have smarted For the sweets your cane affords.
Pagina 306 - HAST thou a charm to stay the morning-star In his steep course ? So long he seems to pause On thy bald awful head, O sovran BLANC ! The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly ; but thou, most awful Form ! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look again...
Pagina 308 - Ye Ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? GOD! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, GOD!
Pagina 190 - And I will multiply the fruit of the tree, and the increase of the field, that ye shall receive no more reproach of famine among the heathen.
Pagina 230 - Tis morn ; but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory or the grave ! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry! Few, few shall part where many meet...
Pagina 183 - And when all the children of Israel saw how the fire came down, and the glory of the Lord upon the house, they bowed themselves with their faces to the ground upon the pavement, and worshipped, and praised the Lord, saying, For he is good ; for his mercy endureth for ever.
Pagina 307 - Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful Form! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently! Around thee and above Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity! 0 dread and silent Mount! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought: entranced in prayer 1...