The British Poets, Volume 3Little, Brown & Company, 1866 |
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Pagina 12
... seemed to see an angel - form appear- ' Twas even thine , beloved woman mild ! So for the mother's sake the child was dear , And dearer was the mother for the child . TELL'S BIRTH - PLACE . IMITATED FROM STOLBERG . I. 12 Sonnet to a Friend.
... seemed to see an angel - form appear- ' Twas even thine , beloved woman mild ! So for the mother's sake the child was dear , And dearer was the mother for the child . TELL'S BIRTH - PLACE . IMITATED FROM STOLBERG . I. 12 Sonnet to a Friend.
Pagina 32
... seemed mine . But now afflictions bow me down to earth : Nor care I that they rob me of my mirth ; But oh ! each visitation Suspends what nature gave me at my birth , My shaping spirit of Imagination . For not to think of what I needs ...
... seemed mine . But now afflictions bow me down to earth : Nor care I that they rob me of my mirth ; But oh ! each visitation Suspends what nature gave me at my birth , My shaping spirit of Imagination . For not to think of what I needs ...
Pagina 39
... Seemed cheerful and content . But when they to the churchyard came , I've heard poor Mary say , As soon as she stepped into the sun , Her heart it died away . And when the Vicar joined their hands , Her limbs did creep and freeze But ...
... Seemed cheerful and content . But when they to the churchyard came , I've heard poor Mary say , As soon as she stepped into the sun , Her heart it died away . And when the Vicar joined their hands , Her limbs did creep and freeze But ...
Pagina 42
... was A trouble in her eye . And when the prayers were done , we all Came round and asked her why : Giddy she seemed , and sure , there was A trouble in her eye . But ere she from the church - door stepped She 42 THE THREE GRAVES .
... was A trouble in her eye . And when the prayers were done , we all Came round and asked her why : Giddy she seemed , and sure , there was A trouble in her eye . But ere she from the church - door stepped She 42 THE THREE GRAVES .
Pagina 46
... seemed the same : all seemed so , Sir ! But all was not the same ! Had Ellen lost her mirth ? Oh ! no ! But she was seldom cheerful ; And Edward looked as if he thought That Ellen's mirth was fearful . When by herself , she to herself ...
... seemed the same : all seemed so , Sir ! But all was not the same ! Had Ellen lost her mirth ? Oh ! no ! But she was seldom cheerful ; And Edward looked as if he thought That Ellen's mirth was fearful . When by herself , she to herself ...
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
ALHADRA Alvar Andreas art thou babe BATHORY beneath Bethlen bless blest breath brother cavern child curse dare dark dead dear death didst doth dream DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE dungeon e'en earth Emerick Enter Exit face fair faith fancy father fear feel gaze gentle GLYCINE grief guilt haply hast hath hear heard heart Heaven Hendecasyllables HEXAMETER honour hope Hush Illyria innocent Isid Isidore King Laska light live look Lord Casimir Lord Valdez Moorish Moresco mother murder ne'er o'er ORDONIO pause PESTALUTZ poor pray Raab Kiuprili Ragozzi round S. T. COLERIDGE Saints shield SCENE scorn sleep smile soul speak spirit stept strange sweet sword tale tears tell TERESA thee thine thou art thought traitor Twas tyrant voice Wallenstein wild wood youth ZAPOLYA
Populaire passages
Pagina 27 - Though I should gaze for ever On that green light that lingers in the west: I may not hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.
Pagina 28 - There was a time when, though my path was rough, This joy within me dallied with distress, And all misfortunes were but as the stuff Whence Fancy made me dreams of happiness : For Hope grew round me, like the twining vine, And fruits, and foliage, not my own, seemed mine.
Pagina 26 - Those sounds which oft have raised me, whilst they awed, And sent my soul abroad, Might now perhaps their wonted impulse give, Might startle this dull pain, and make it move and live! II A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear, A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief, Which finds no natural outlet, no relief, In word, or sigh, or tear— 0 Lady!
Pagina 83 - 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.
Pagina 30 - Tis of the rushing of an host in rout. With groans, of trampled men, with smarting wounds — At once they groan with pain, and shudder with the cold! But hush! there is a pause of deepest silence! And all that noise, as of a rushing crowd, With groans, and tremulous shudderings— all is over — It tells another tale, with sounds less deep and loud! A tale of less affright. And tempered with delight. As Otway's self- had framed the tender lay.
Pagina 73 - twixt Now and Then ! This breathing House not built with hands, This body that does me grievous wrong, O'er aery Cliffs and glittering Sands, How lightly then it flashed along...
Pagina 31 - Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing, And may this storm be but a mountain-birth, May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling, Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth! With light heart may she rise, Gay fancy, cheerful eyes, Joy lift her spirit, joy attune her voice : To her may all things live, from Pole to Pole, Their life the eddying of her living soul ! O simple spirit, guided from above, Dear Lady ! friend devoutest of my choice, Thus mayest thou ever, evermore rejoice.
Pagina 74 - Youth! for years so many and sweet, "Tis known, that Thou and I were one, I'll think it but a fond conceit — It cannot be that Thou art gone!
Pagina 64 - ERE on my bed my limbs I lay, It hath not been my use to pray With moving lips or bended knees ; But silently, by slow degrees, My spirit I to Love compose, In humble Trust mine eye-lids close, With reverential resignation, No wish conceived, no thought expressed ! Only a sense of supplication.
Pagina 27 - And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth, Of all sweet sounds the life and element I v. O pure of heart ! thou need'st not ask of me What this strong music in the soul may be ! What, and wherein it doth exist, This light, this glory, this fair luminous mist, This beautiful and beauty-making power.