The Poetical Register, and Repository of Fugitive Poetry for 1801-11, Том 7F.C. & J. Rivington, 1812 |
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ANGANTYR Aveyron beam beauty behold beneath blank verse blest bliss bloom bosom breast breath bright charms cheek clouds dark dear death delight dread e'en EPIGRAM ev'ry eyes fair fame fancy fate fear flame flowers Genius gentle gleams gloom glow grace grave hand head heart heaven HERVOR hope HORACE IN LONDON hour LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM light Lycon lyre maid MARY RUSSELL MITFORD mind Monody mortal Muse Muse's ne'er night numbers nymph o'er pale passion peace pleasure poem poetical praise pride PRIESTLEY rapture rose scene scorn shade shine shore sigh SIRMIO sleep Small 8vo smile soft song SONNET soon Sophron sorrow soul spirit sweet tears Theatre Royal thee Theodore Edward Hook thine thou thro tomb trembling vale verse virtue waves ween weep wild wings youth
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Сторінка 532 - And in far other scenes! For I was reared In the great city, pent 'mid cloisters dim, And saw nought lovely but the sky and stars. But thou, my babe! shalt wander like a breeze By lakes and sandy shores, beneath the crags Of ancient mountain, and beneath the clouds, Which image in their bulk both lakes and shores And mountain crags...
Сторінка 532 - Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee, Whether the summer clothe the general earth With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall. Heard only in the trances of the blast, Or if the secret ministry of frost Shall hang them up in silent icicles, Quietly shining to the quiet Moon, DEJECTION.
Сторінка 333 - I sang, amid a slavish band : And when to whelm the disenchanted nation, Like fiends embattled by a wizard's wand, The Monarchs...
Сторінка 230 - And all our dainty terms for fratricide; Terms which we trundle smoothly o'er our tongues Like mere abstractions, empty sounds to which We join no feeling and attach no form! As if the soldier died without a wound; As if the fibres of this godlike frame Were gored without a pang...
Сторінка 232 - To me, who from thy lakes and mountain-hills, Thy clouds, thy quiet dales, thy rocks and seas, Have drunk in all my intellectual life, All sweet sensations, all ennobling thoughts, All adoration of the God in nature, All lovely and all honourable things, Whatever makes this mortal spirit feel The joy and greatness of its future being?
Сторінка 227 - tis a quiet spirit-healing nook ! Which all, methinks, would love ; but chiefly he, The humble man, who, in his youthful years, Knew just so much of folly, as had made His early manhood more securely wise...
Сторінка 532 - Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side, Whose gentle breathings, heard in this deep calm, Fill up the interspersed vacancies And momentary pauses of the thought!
Сторінка 572 - Specimens of English Dramatic Poets who lived about the time of Shakspeare...
Сторінка 334 - Forgive me, Freedom! O forgive those dreams! I hear thy voice, I hear thy loud lament, From bleak Helvetia's icy caverns sent— I hear thy groans upon her blood-stained streams!
Сторінка 233 - The joy and greatness of its future being ? There lives nor form nor feeling in my soul Unborrowed from my country. O divine And beauteous island ! thou hast been my sole And most magnificent temple, in the which 1 walk with awe, and sing my stately songs, Loving the God that made me...