Records of Woman, with Other PoemsGilley, 1828 - 324 стор. |
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Сторінка 16
... bonds are broken , And unto me , I know , thy true love's token Shall one day be deliverance , tho ' the years Lie dim between , o'erhung with mists of tears . VII . My friend , my friend ! where art 16 RECORDS OF WOMAN .
... bonds are broken , And unto me , I know , thy true love's token Shall one day be deliverance , tho ' the years Lie dim between , o'erhung with mists of tears . VII . My friend , my friend ! where art 16 RECORDS OF WOMAN .
Сторінка 27
... unto love yet untried and new , She parts from love which hath still been true ; Mute be the song and the choral strain , Till her heart's deep well - spring is clear again ! She wept on her mother's faithful breast , Like a babe that ...
... unto love yet untried and new , She parts from love which hath still been true ; Mute be the song and the choral strain , Till her heart's deep well - spring is clear again ! She wept on her mother's faithful breast , Like a babe that ...
Сторінка 37
... pale arms in vain To the form they must never infold again . One moment more , and her hands are clasp'd , Fallen is the torch they had wildly grasp'd , Her sinking knee unto Heaven is bow'd , And her 4 THE BRIDE OF THE GREEK ISLE . 37.
... pale arms in vain To the form they must never infold again . One moment more , and her hands are clasp'd , Fallen is the torch they had wildly grasp'd , Her sinking knee unto Heaven is bow'd , And her 4 THE BRIDE OF THE GREEK ISLE . 37.
Сторінка 38
Mrs. Hemans. Her sinking knee unto Heaven is bow'd , And her last look rais'd thro ' the smoke's dim shroud , And her lips as in prayer for her pardon move-- Now the night gathers o'er youth and love ! * * Originally published , as well ...
Mrs. Hemans. Her sinking knee unto Heaven is bow'd , And her last look rais'd thro ' the smoke's dim shroud , And her lips as in prayer for her pardon move-- Now the night gathers o'er youth and love ! * * Originally published , as well ...
Сторінка 51
... unto me , whereon my own Might find a resting - place , a home for all Its burden of affections ? I depart , Unknown , tho ' Fame goes with me ; I must leave The earth unknown . Yet it may be that death Shall give my name a power to win ...
... unto me , whereon my own Might find a resting - place , a home for all Its burden of affections ? I depart , Unknown , tho ' Fame goes with me ; I must leave The earth unknown . Yet it may be that death Shall give my name a power to win ...
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ARABELLA STUART art thou beautiful beneath bird bosom bow'd breast breath breeze bright bright land brightly brow cheek child Childe Harold dark dead death deep dream dust dwell earth Eudora Ev'n fair fear floating flowers forest fount gaze gentle glad glance gleam gloom glow gone grave green grief hair hath haunted heart heaven holy hour human voice hush'd JOANNA BAILLIE leaves light lip's lips lone look'd lov'd lyre MADAME DE STAEL mantle midst mother mournful murmur night o'er pale pass'd pour'd prayer press'd proud RHEIMS rose round Seem'd shade shadow silent silvery sleep smile soft solemn song soul sound spirit stood stream strong sunny sweet sword tears tender thee thine things thou art Thou hast thou wert Thou'rt thought thro tomb tone Twas unto voice wandering wave weep whisper wild wind woman's woods young youth
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Сторінка 265 - 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 269 - 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 263 - 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 266 - And slight withal may be the things which bring Back on the heart the weight which it would fling Aside for ever : it may be a sound — A tone of music, — summer's eve — or spring, A flower — the wind — the Ocean — which shall wound, Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound ; XXIV.
Сторінка 264 - Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth.
Сторінка 171 - THE stately homes of England, How beautiful they stand, Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land ! The deer across their greensward bound Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream.
Сторінка 242 - Content thee, boy, in my bower to dwell ! Here are sweet sounds, which thou lovest well ; Flutes on the air in the stilly noon, Harps which the wandering breezes tune ; And the silvery wood-note of many a bird, Whose voice was ne'er in thy mountains heard.
Сторінка 202 - O good old man ; how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed ! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat, but for promotion; And having that, do choke their service up Even with the having: it is not so with thee.
Сторінка 288 - BERNARD BARTON. BY the soft green light in the woody glade, On the banks of moss where thy childhood play'd, By the household tree through which thine eye First look'd in love to the summer sky, By the dewy gleam, by the very breath Of the primrose tufts in the grass beneath, Upon thy heart there is laid a spell, Holy and precious — oh ! guard it well...
Сторінка 302 - 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. The sea, the blue lone sea, hath one, He lies where pearls lie deep, He was the loved of all, yet none O'er his low bed may weep.