The Golden Treasury: Selected from the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language and Arranged with Notes

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Сторінка 200 - She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies, And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes ; Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Сторінка 324 - given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon, The winds that will be howling at all hours And are up-gather'd now like sleeping flowers. For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us not.—Great God ! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled
Сторінка 65 - roll'd Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To Heaven. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple Tyrant: that from these may grow A hundred-fold, who, having learnt Thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian woe.
Сторінка 335 - cccxxxvn My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky : So was it when my life began, So is it now I am a man, So be it when I shall grow old Or let me die ! The Child is father of the Man
Сторінка 326 - Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare ; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve ; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair ! Ah, happy, happy boughs ! that cannot shed
Сторінка 125 - I saw Eternity the other night, Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm, as it was bright : — And round beneath it, Time, in hours, days, years, Driven by the spheres, Like a vast shadow moved ; in which the World And all her train were hurl'd. H. Vaughan
Сторінка 138 - on his funeral couch he lies! No pitying heart, no eye, afford While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm ; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush d in grim repose expects his evening prey.
Сторінка 23 - 2 , That time of year thou may'st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang: In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth
Сторінка 274 - on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards : Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster d around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding
Сторінка 75 - To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night—• It was the plant and flower of Light. Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be.

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