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answer appeared arms asked beauty blood body brother called child continued course dark dead dear death desired door entered eyes face fair father fear feeling fire formed gave give half hand head hear heard heart hope horses hour kind knew lady land leave letters light live look Lord means mind Miss morning mother nature never night observed obtained officer once party passed persons poor possession present received replied respect rest returned round scene seemed seen side smile soon soul speak spirit street tell thing thou thought tion told took turned voice walked whole wife wild wish wonderful young
Сторінка 92 - The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel, But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade.
Сторінка 131 - Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth! O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...
Сторінка 262 - Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: And yet no further than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty.
Сторінка 410 - Twas in the calm and silent night ; The senator of haughty Rome, Impatient, urged his chariot's flight, From lordly revel rolling home ; Triumphal arches, gleaming, swell His breast with thoughts of boundless sway : What recked the Roman what befell A paltry province far away In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago?
Сторінка 328 - And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to sleep ; A shade that follows wealth or fame, But leaves the wretch to weep...
Сторінка 400 - Require the borrow'd gloss of art? Speak not of fate: ah! change the theme, And talk of odours, talk of wine, Talk of the flowers that round us bloom: Tis all a cloud, 'tis all a dream; To love and joy thy thoughts confine, Nor hope to pierce the sacred gloom.
Сторінка 409 - How keen the stars! his only thought; The air how calm and cold and thin, •In the solemn midnight Centuries ago ! O strange indifference! — low and high Drowsed over common joys and cares: The earth was still — but knew not why; The world was listening — unawares. How calm a moment may precede One that shall thrill the world for ever! To that still moment none would heed, Man's doom was linked, no more to sever, In the solemn midnight Centuries ago.
Сторінка 400 - That rosy cheek, that lily hand, Would give thy poet more delight Than all Bocara's vaunted gold, Than all the gems of Samarcand. Boy, let yon liquid ruby flow, And bid thy pensive heart be glad, Whate'er the frowning zealots say : Tell them, their Eden cannot show A stream so clear as Rocnabad, A bower so sweet as Mosellay.