The Works of the British Poets, Selected and Chronologically Arranged...: With Biographical and Critical Notices, Том 3D. Appleton, 1852 |
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Сторінка 76
... Beauty lives , And Love , her priest , the soft responses gives . Instead of honouring Isis in those rites At Coptos held , I hail her , when she lights Her first young crescent on the holy stream- When wandering youths and maidens ...
... Beauty lives , And Love , her priest , the soft responses gives . Instead of honouring Isis in those rites At Coptos held , I hail her , when she lights Her first young crescent on the holy stream- When wandering youths and maidens ...
Сторінка 77
... beauty , yet unbreath'd upon , And all the hidden loveliness , that lies , Shut up , as are the beams of sleeping eyes , Within these twilight shrines - to - night will be , Soon as the Moon's white bark in heav'n we see , Let loose ...
... beauty , yet unbreath'd upon , And all the hidden loveliness , that lies , Shut up , as are the beams of sleeping eyes , Within these twilight shrines - to - night will be , Soon as the Moon's white bark in heav'n we see , Let loose ...
Сторінка 96
... beauty and the moon were made ; ' Tis then their soft attractions glowing Set the tides and goblets flowing . Oh ! stay - Oh ! stay- Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this to - night , that oh ! ' tis pain To break its links so soon ...
... beauty and the moon were made ; ' Tis then their soft attractions glowing Set the tides and goblets flowing . Oh ! stay - Oh ! stay- Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this to - night , that oh ! ' tis pain To break its links so soon ...
Сторінка 97
... beauty hath seldom blest ! But when some warm devoted lover To her he adores shall bathe its brim , Then , then my spirit around shall hover , And hallow each drop that foams for him . EVELEEN'S BOWER . AIR - Unknown . On ! weep for the ...
... beauty hath seldom blest ! But when some warm devoted lover To her he adores shall bathe its brim , Then , then my spirit around shall hover , And hallow each drop that foams for him . EVELEEN'S BOWER . AIR - Unknown . On ! weep for the ...
Сторінка 99
... Beauty lies In many eyes , But love in yours , my Nora Creina ! Lesbia wears a robe of gold , But all so close the nymph hath laced it , Not a charm of Beauty's mould Presumes to stay where nature placed it ! Oh ! my Nora's gown for me ...
... Beauty lies In many eyes , But love in yours , my Nora Creina ! Lesbia wears a robe of gold , But all so close the nymph hath laced it , Not a charm of Beauty's mould Presumes to stay where nature placed it ! Oh ! my Nora's gown for me ...
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ABBOT art thou beauty behold beneath bless blest blood bosom breast breath bright brow CHAMOIS cheek child clouds Culdee dark dead dear death deep delight dread dream dwell earth ev'n eyes face fair fear feel flowers FRANKFORT gaze Gebir Gondoline grave grief hand happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven holy hope hour Inchcape Rock Innisfail jotun knew land light live lonely look look'd lyre MAGDALENE maid MANFRED MASTER OF REVELS mind mortal Moscow mother mountains ne'er never night nymph o'er once pale Paraguay pass'd peace PRIEST round scene seem'd shade shine shore sigh sight silent sleep smile song sorrow soul sound Spain spirit star stood sweet Tamar tears tell tempest thee Theodric thine things thou art thought tomb Twas unto voice wave ween weep Westbury wild WILMOT wind wretched young youth
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Сторінка 591 - And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel, writing in a book of gold; Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold : And to the presence in the room he said, " What writest thou ?" The vision raised its head, And,
Сторінка 203 - Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud» But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud ! XCIII.
Сторінка 540 - to the tempest given ; The massy earth and sphered skies are riven : I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar ; Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. LINES WRITTEN AMONG THE EUGANEAN HILLS. OCTOBER,
Сторінка 141 - thousand years, The battle and the breeze Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe ! And sweep through the deep, While the stormy tempests blow; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy tempests blow. The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave
Сторінка 583 - 3. Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Сторінка 552 - I sift the snow on the mountains below. And their great pines groan aghast ; And all the night 'tis my pillow white. While I sleep in the arms of the blast. Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers. Lightning my pilot sits. In a cavern under is
Сторінка 223 - thee— Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they? Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts :—not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play— Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow— Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou
Сторінка 539 - XLIII. He is a portion of the loveliness Which once he made more lovely: he doth bear His part, while the one Spirit's plastic stress Sweeps through the dull dense world, compelling there All new successions to the forms they wear ; Torturing th' unwilling dross that checks its flight To
Сторінка 539 - thou find Thine own well full, if thou returnest home, Of tears and gall. From the world's bitter wind Seek shelter in the shadow of the tomb. What Adonais is, why fear we to become? LH. The One remains, the many change and pass ; Heaven's light for ever shines, Earth's shadows
Сторінка 141 - sulph'rous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave ! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave* And charge with all thy chivalry ! Few, few, shall part when many meet ! The snow shall be their winding-sheet, And every turf beneath