The Poetical Register, and Repository of Fugitive Poetry for 1801-11, Volume 2F.C. & J. Rivington, 1803 |
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Pagina 20
... sound , And Hubert's thin shade thrice encircles the mound Where the lovers are buried , and mourns . But on May's earliest morn , the fair maids of the vale O'er the green sward bespangled with dew , ( While they weep at remembrance of ...
... sound , And Hubert's thin shade thrice encircles the mound Where the lovers are buried , and mourns . But on May's earliest morn , the fair maids of the vale O'er the green sward bespangled with dew , ( While they weep at remembrance of ...
Pagina 49
... sound Comes slowly on , -and then , loud rattling , clangs ! Shakes the high Spire ! -and then , tho ' spent and drown'd , Upon the shrinking ear of Terror hangs ! The winds are up , trees writhing as in pangs ! Again the lightnings ...
... sound Comes slowly on , -and then , loud rattling , clangs ! Shakes the high Spire ! -and then , tho ' spent and drown'd , Upon the shrinking ear of Terror hangs ! The winds are up , trees writhing as in pangs ! Again the lightnings ...
Pagina 53
... , tho ' late , Maïd divine , to wed with Fate ; - For the nuptial pomp - around Banners wave , and trumpets sound , Veins of men libations pour , Sacred to the genial hour : Be their offspring Death , or Life , Lead me E 3 53.
... , tho ' late , Maïd divine , to wed with Fate ; - For the nuptial pomp - around Banners wave , and trumpets sound , Veins of men libations pour , Sacred to the genial hour : Be their offspring Death , or Life , Lead me E 3 53.
Pagina 57
... sound no more , That led the free to victory ! Yet , Freedom , o'er thy lost abode , Which many a godlike foot hath trode , What heart shall trace thy trophied road , Nor burn to ' venge thy destiny ! - EPILOGUE ΤΟ " THE WONDER ; OR , A ...
... sound no more , That led the free to victory ! Yet , Freedom , o'er thy lost abode , Which many a godlike foot hath trode , What heart shall trace thy trophied road , Nor burn to ' venge thy destiny ! - EPILOGUE ΤΟ " THE WONDER ; OR , A ...
Pagina 58
... Why , of a drizzling cold December morn , Before ' tis light , when sounds the echoing horn Why do they , shiv'ring by some covert's side With vain pretence the piercing cold deride ? Then at a distance still pursue the pack , Till 58.
... Why , of a drizzling cold December morn , Before ' tis light , when sounds the echoing horn Why do they , shiv'ring by some covert's side With vain pretence the piercing cold deride ? Then at a distance still pursue the pack , Till 58.
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Overige edities - Alles bekijken
The Poetical Register, and Repository of Fugitive Poetry for 1801-11, Volume 2 Volledige weergave - 1803 |
The Poetical Register, and Repository of Fugitive Poetry for 1801-11, Volume 2 Volledige weergave - 1803 |
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
Anacreon ANNA SEWARD Bard beam beauty behold bend beneath blest bosom bowers breast breath bright Britons brow charms cold dark dear death deep dread E'en EDMUND L EPIGRAM fair fame Fancy fate fear feel fond frown gale gay bowers gentle glow grace grave hail hand heart Heaven hope hour joys LEFTLY light lonely lov'd lyre maid MARISCHAL COLLEGE mind mourn Muse Naiads ne'er Nebaioth night numbers nymph o'er ORIEL COLLEGE pale peace plain pleasure poem pow'r praise pride rapture rill rise round sacred scene shade shine shore sighs skies smile soft song SONNET sorrow soul spirit storm strain stream sweet SYLPH SYLPHIL tear tempest tender thee thine thou thro throne toil tomb trembling vale verse vex'd Village Maid VIRGIL'S TOMB virtue wave weep wild winds wing youth
Populaire passages
Pagina 217 - 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 296 - 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 296 - Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds ! And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God ! Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost!
Pagina 175 - And the house, when it was in building, was built of stone made ready before it was brought thither : so that there was neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron heard in the house, while it was in building.
Pagina 183 - And I saw no temple therein: for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it. And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.
Pagina 232 - Greatness and goodness are not means but ends ! Hath he not always treasures, always friends, The good great man ? Three treasures,- love and light, And calm thoughts regular as infant's breath : And three firm friends, more sure than day and night, Himself, his Maker, and the angel Death.
Pagina 295 - 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!
Pagina 218 - 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 ! The snow shall be their winding-sheet ; And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.
Pagina 168 - Where now thy might, which all those kings subdued? No martial myriads muster in thy gate ; No suppliant nations in thy Temple wait ; No prophet bards...
Pagina 169 - And as the seer on Pisgah's topmost brow With glistening eye beheld the plain below, With prescient ardour drank the scented gale, And bade the opening glades of Canaan hail, Her eagle eye shall scan the prospect wide. From...