The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive Poetry, Volume 2Alaric Alexander Watts Hurst, Chance, and Company, 1829 |
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... bears— By all that freedom prompts , or valour dares- By all that bids the bright historic page Of Greece and Rome inspire each after age- By all of great , that must our wonder raise In direst , worst extremities , —we praise A deed ...
... bears— By all that freedom prompts , or valour dares- By all that bids the bright historic page Of Greece and Rome inspire each after age- By all of great , that must our wonder raise In direst , worst extremities , —we praise A deed ...
Page 17
... bear it in safety across a running stream . A goblet is still carefully preserved in Eden - hall , Cumberland ... bears - the Luck of Eden - hall . MINSTRELSY OF THE SCOTTISH BORDER , ON Eden's wild , romantic bowers The summer moonbeams ...
... bear it in safety across a running stream . A goblet is still carefully preserved in Eden - hall , Cumberland ... bears - the Luck of Eden - hall . MINSTRELSY OF THE SCOTTISH BORDER , ON Eden's wild , romantic bowers The summer moonbeams ...
Page 32
... envious or by idle tongue ! Given by vapid fools , who laud Only if others do the same ; Forgotten even while the breath Is on the air that bears your name . And He ! what was his fate - the bard 32 THE POETICAL ALBUM .
... envious or by idle tongue ! Given by vapid fools , who laud Only if others do the same ; Forgotten even while the breath Is on the air that bears your name . And He ! what was his fate - the bard 32 THE POETICAL ALBUM .
Page 33
... bear no more , so broke at last . Thus withering amid the wreck Of sweet hopes , high imaginings , What can the minstrel do but die , Cursing his too beloved strings ! Literary Gazette . L. E. L. D THE VIRGIN MARY'S BANK . AN IRISH ...
... bear no more , so broke at last . Thus withering amid the wreck Of sweet hopes , high imaginings , What can the minstrel do but die , Cursing his too beloved strings ! Literary Gazette . L. E. L. D THE VIRGIN MARY'S BANK . AN IRISH ...
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... bear her along . See ! she looks up to the golden - edged clouds , And the sailor sings gaily aloft in the shrouds : Onward she glides , amid ripple and spray , Over the waters , -away , and away ! Bright as the visions of youth , ere ...
... bear her along . See ! she looks up to the golden - edged clouds , And the sailor sings gaily aloft in the shrouds : Onward she glides , amid ripple and spray , Over the waters , -away , and away ! Bright as the visions of youth , ere ...
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Autres éditions - Tout afficher
The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive Poetry, Volume 2 Alaric Alexander Watts Affichage du livre entier - 1829 |
The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive Poetry, Volume 2 Alaric Alexander Watts Affichage du livre entier - 1829 |
Expressions et termes fréquents
abbot art thou beauty beneath Blackwood's Magazine blest bloom blue bosom bower breast breath breeze bright brow calm charms cheek clouds cold Congreve rockets coursers dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth fading fair fairy fear flowers gaze gentle gleam glow Godiva gondolier grave green grief Harebells hath heard heart heaven hope hour immortal Song JAMES HOGG JOHN MOULTRIE land life's light lips Literary Gazette Literary Souvenir lonely look LORD BYRON mirth morn muse ne'er never night o'er pale prayer rock rose round scene shade shine shore sigh silent silent empire skies sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit star star by star stream sweet tears thee thine THOMAS DOUBLEDAY thou art thou hast thou wert thought tomb tree voice wandering wave weep wild wind wings young youth
Fréquemment cités
Page 223 - Beyond the flight of time, Beyond this vale of death, There surely is some blessed clime, Where life is not a breath ; Nor life's affections transient fire, Whose sparks fly upward...
Page 89 - All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair — The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing — And Winter slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring! And I the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Page 30 - ETHEREAL minstrel! pilgrim of the sky ! Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound ? Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground ? Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will, Those quivering wings composed, that music still!
Page 208 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Page 336 - The time would e'er be o'er, And I on thee should look my last, And thou shouldst smile no more! And still upon that face I look, And think 'twill smile again; And still the thought I will not brook, That I must look in vain. But when I speak — thou dost not say What thou ne'er left'st...
Page 221 - To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Page 155 - ALL worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, The Sun himself must die, Before this mortal shall assume Its immortality ! I saw a vision in my sleep, That gave my spirit strength to sweep Adown the gulf of Time ! I...
Page 221 - Who hath not seen Thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor...
Page 156 - Go, let oblivion's curtain fall Upon the stage of men. Nor with thy rising beams recall Life's tragedy again: Its piteous pageants bring not back, Nor waken flesh, upon the rack Of pain anew to writhe; Stretched in disease's shapes abhorred, Or mown in battle by the sword, Like grass beneath the scythe.
Page 96 - I remember, I remember Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing...