The Ladies' Wreath: A Selection from the Female Poetic Writers of England and America : with Original Notices and Notes : Prepared Especially for Young Ladies : a Gift Book for All SeasonsMarsh, Capen & Lyon, 1837 - 408 стор. |
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Сторінка 14
... bear no allusion ; and the tenderness and forbearance with which she , while living , treated the faults of her husband , render it the duty of those , who love her memory , to forbear , as far as possible , from adverting to scenes and ...
... bear no allusion ; and the tenderness and forbearance with which she , while living , treated the faults of her husband , render it the duty of those , who love her memory , to forbear , as far as possible , from adverting to scenes and ...
Сторінка 18
... Bears its first blow ! - it knows not yet the part Which life will teach― to suffer and be still , And with submissive love to count the flowers Which yet are spared , and through the future hours To send no busy dream ! -She had not ...
... Bears its first blow ! - it knows not yet the part Which life will teach― to suffer and be still , And with submissive love to count the flowers Which yet are spared , and through the future hours To send no busy dream ! -She had not ...
Сторінка 27
... bear his trophies well . And this is love ! This is man's love ! - What marvel ? -You ne'er made Your breast the pillow of his infancy , While to the fulness of your hearts glad heavings - His fair cheek rose and fell ; and his bright ...
... bear his trophies well . And this is love ! This is man's love ! - What marvel ? -You ne'er made Your breast the pillow of his infancy , While to the fulness of your hearts glad heavings - His fair cheek rose and fell ; and his bright ...
Сторінка 29
... Bears record to the faith Of love , deep , holy , fervent love , Victor of fear and death . Where'er a spire points up to heaven , Through storm and summer air , Telling that all around have striven , Man's heart , and hope , and prayer ...
... Bears record to the faith Of love , deep , holy , fervent love , Victor of fear and death . Where'er a spire points up to heaven , Through storm and summer air , Telling that all around have striven , Man's heart , and hope , and prayer ...
Сторінка 31
... Thou home of my boyish glee ! " But I bear from my childhood a gift of tears , To soften and atone ; And O ye scenes of those blessed years ! They shall make me again your own . " THE MIRROR IN THE DESERTED HALL . O dim , MRS . HEMANS . 31.
... Thou home of my boyish glee ! " But I bear from my childhood a gift of tears , To soften and atone ; And O ye scenes of those blessed years ! They shall make me again your own . " THE MIRROR IN THE DESERTED HALL . O dim , MRS . HEMANS . 31.
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beauty beneath Bernard Barton bird blessed bloom blossoms bosom bower breast breath breeze bright brow CAROLINE BOWLES charms cheek child childhood clouds cold dark dear death deep doth dreams earth earthly fade fair fancy father fear feel FELICIA HEMANS flowers fond gaze Genie genius gentle glow gone grace happy hath hear heart heaven holy hope hour Joanna Baillie lady life's light lips literary lonely look lute lyre Mary Howitt Mary Mitford mind mirth Mont Blanc mother muse ne'er neath never night o'er poems poetry prayer pure rest Rienzi rose round shade sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit spring stars stranger's heart stream sunny sweet tears tender thee thine things thou art thou hast thought tone tree twas voice wave weary weep wild winds wings woman words young youth
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Сторінка 355 - She dwells with Beauty — Beauty that must die; And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh, Turning to Poison while the bee-mouth sips: Ay, in the very temple of Delight Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine, Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine; His soul shall taste the sadness of her might, And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
Сторінка 36 - We know when moons shall wane, When summer birds from far shall cross the sea, When autumn's hue shall tinge the golden grain — But who shall teach us when to look for thee ? Is it when spring's first gale Comes forth to whisper where the violets lie? Is it when roses in our paths grow pale ? — They have one season — all are ours to die...
Сторінка 52 - Her lot is on you !— to be found untired, Watching the stars out by the bed of pain, With a pale cheek, and yet a brow inspired, And a true heart of hope, though hope be vain ; Meekly to bear with wrong, to cheer decay, And oh ! to love through all things— therefore pray...
Сторінка 19 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Сторінка 115 - DOWN in a green and shady bed, A modest violet grew, Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, As if to hide from view.
Сторінка 54 - I have looked o'er the hills of the stormy north, And the larch has hung all his tassels forth, The fisher is out on the sunny sea, And the rein-deer bounds o'er the pastures free, And the pine has a fringe of softer green, And the moss looks bright, where my foot hath been.
Сторінка 166 - I've always felt for you? I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice; I'm sure you're very welcome — will you please to take a slice ? " " Oh, no, no," said the little fly, " kind sir, that cannot be ; I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see.
Сторінка 160 - I'll tell you all, my mother, But let me have my way. "And some they played with the water, And rolled it down the hill; And this,' they said, 'shall speedily turn The poor old miller's mill; "'For there has been no water Ever since the first of May; And a busy man shall the miller be By the dawning of the day!
Сторінка 55 - ... and dew-bright eye, And the bounding footstep, to meet me fly ! With the lyre, and the wreath, and the joyous lay, Come forth to the sunshine — I may not stay. Away from the dwellings of care-worn men, The waters are sparkling in grove and glen ! Away from the chamber and sullen hearth, ( The young leaves are dancing in breezy mirth ! Their light stems thrill to the wild-wood strains, And youth is abroad in my green domains...
Сторінка 54 - I come, I come! ye have called me long, I come o'er the mountains with light and song ; Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth, By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass, By the green leaves opening as I pass.