The Poetical Works of Mrs. Felicia Hemans, Том 2Evert Duyckinck, 1828 |
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Сторінка 11
... by the darts of men Since those fresh days , and now thy light divine Look'd on mine anguish , while within me strove The still small voice against the might of suffering love . 12 THE FOREST SANCTUARY . XLVIII . 25 But thou.
... by the darts of men Since those fresh days , and now thy light divine Look'd on mine anguish , while within me strove The still small voice against the might of suffering love . 12 THE FOREST SANCTUARY . XLVIII . 25 But thou.
Сторінка 12
... look'd , and saw decay Steal o'er the fair of earth , the adored too much ! -It is fearful thing to love what death may touch . LI . A fearful thing that love and death may dwell In the same world ! -She faded on - and I- Blind to the ...
... look'd , and saw decay Steal o'er the fair of earth , the adored too much ! -It is fearful thing to love what death may touch . LI . A fearful thing that love and death may dwell In the same world ! -She faded on - and I- Blind to the ...
Сторінка 13
... look that hour ; -for now her voice grew weak ; And on the flowery crimson of his cheek , With her white lips a long , long kiss she press'd , Yet light , to wake him not . - Then sank her head Against my bursting heart . - What did I ...
... look that hour ; -for now her voice grew weak ; And on the flowery crimson of his cheek , With her white lips a long , long kiss she press'd , Yet light , to wake him not . - Then sank her head Against my bursting heart . - What did I ...
Сторінка 14
... look'd my last On the sad beauty of that slumbering face ; How could I think the lovely spirit pass'd , Which there had left so tenderly its trace ? Yet a din awfulness was on the brow- No ! not like sleep to look upon art Thou , Death ...
... look'd my last On the sad beauty of that slumbering face ; How could I think the lovely spirit pass'd , Which there had left so tenderly its trace ? Yet a din awfulness was on the brow- No ! not like sleep to look upon art Thou , Death ...
Сторінка 16
... Look not reproach , though still they seem to weep ; It is that He my sacrifice hath bless'd , And fill'd my bosom , through its inmost cell , With a deep chastening sense that all at last is well . LXV . Yes ! thou art now - Oh ...
... Look not reproach , though still they seem to weep ; It is that He my sacrifice hath bless'd , And fill'd my bosom , through its inmost cell , With a deep chastening sense that all at last is well . LXV . Yes ! thou art now - Oh ...
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banners beauty beneath BERNARDO DEL CARPIO blue blue streams bowers breast breath breeze bright bright land brow call'd child dark death deep dreams dust dwell earth Eolian ev'n fade fair falchion Fancy crown farewell father forest fount gaze gentle glance gleam gloom glorious glory glow Glyndwr's gone grave green hath heard heart Heaven hills holy hour hush'd joyous Lake of Lucerne land leaves light lone look look'd lyre midst mirth mother mountains mournful night o'er pale pass'd pines pour'd rest rills Rio Verde rocks round seem'd shades shadow shining shore silent sleep slumber smile soft solemn song soul sound spear spirit stars stormy strain stranger's heart streams sunny sunny brow sweet sword tears thee thine thou art Thou hast thought tomb tone trumpet unto voice wake wakeful eye wave weep wert wild wind woods wouldst young
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Сторінка 88 - Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free!
Сторінка 89 - What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? — They sought a faith's pure shrine. Ay, call it holy ground, — The soil where first they trod! They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God ! Felicia Hemans.
Сторінка 85 - Traveller, in the stranger's land, Far from thine own household band ; Mourner, haunted by the tone Of a voice from this world gone ; Captive, in whose narrow cell Sunshine hath, not leave to dwell ; Sailor, on the darkening sea — Lift the heart and bend the knee...
Сторінка 68 - Give back the lost and lovely ! — those for whom The place was kept at board and hearth so long ! The prayer went up...
Сторінка 111 - O'er each fair sleeping brow, She had each folded flower in sight— Where are those dreamers now? One midst the forests of the West, By a dark stream, is laid ; The Indian knows his place of rest Far in the cedar shade.
Сторінка 115 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath. And stars to set — but all — Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death ! THE LOST PLEIAD.
Сторінка 135 - Speak, father," once again he cried, "If I may yet be gone!" And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.
Сторінка 135 - THE boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but him had fled; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm — A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though childlike form.
Сторінка 137 - Yet not to thine eternal resting-place Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings, The powerful of the earth — the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre.
Сторінка 194 - midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange bright birds on their starry wings Bear the rich hues of all glorious things ? Not there, not there, my child. Is it far away in some region old, Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold, Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand, Is it there, sweet mother, that better land ? Not there, not there, my child.