PoemsT. Cadell and W. Davies, 1820 - 251 стор. |
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Сторінка 6
... Hence arises our attachment to inanimate objects ; hence also , in some degree , the love of our country , and the emotion with which we contemplate the celebrated scenes of antiquity . Hence a picture directs our thoughts to the ...
... Hence arises our attachment to inanimate objects ; hence also , in some degree , the love of our country , and the emotion with which we contemplate the celebrated scenes of antiquity . Hence a picture directs our thoughts to the ...
Сторінка 14
... hence , beneath their shade , to trace The few fond lines that Time may soon efface . On yon gray stone , that fronts the chancel - door , Worn smooth by busy feet now seen no more , Each eve we shot the marble thro ' the ring , When ...
... hence , beneath their shade , to trace The few fond lines that Time may soon efface . On yon gray stone , that fronts the chancel - door , Worn smooth by busy feet now seen no more , Each eve we shot the marble thro ' the ring , When ...
Сторінка 18
... hence this spot gives back the joys of youth , Warm as the life , and with the mirror's truth . Hence home - felt pleasure prompts the Patriot's sigh ; This makes him wish to live , and dare to die . h For this young FOSCARI , whose ...
... hence this spot gives back the joys of youth , Warm as the life , and with the mirror's truth . Hence home - felt pleasure prompts the Patriot's sigh ; This makes him wish to live , and dare to die . h For this young FOSCARI , whose ...
Сторінка 19
... hence the charm historic scenes impart : Hence Tiber awes , and Avon melts the heart . Aërial forms in Tempe's classic vale Glance thro ' the gloom , and whisper in the gale ; In wild Vaucluse with love and Laura dwell , And watch and ...
... hence the charm historic scenes impart : Hence Tiber awes , and Avon melts the heart . Aërial forms in Tempe's classic vale Glance thro ' the gloom , and whisper in the gale ; In wild Vaucluse with love and Laura dwell , And watch and ...
Сторінка 20
... hence that calm delight the portrait gives : We gaze on every feature till it lives ! Still the fond lover sees the absent maid ; And the lost friend still lingers in his shade ! m Say why the pensive widow loves to weep , When on her ...
... hence that calm delight the portrait gives : We gaze on every feature till it lives ! Still the fond lover sees the absent maid ; And the lost friend still lingers in his shade ! m Say why the pensive widow loves to weep , When on her ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
adieu age to age antient bids birds bless blest blush breast breathe bright Cacique calm CANTO charm clime Columbus controul Cortes courser dark dead deep delight desert shore dream echo Eumenides Euripides father fear fled fond frown gaze glory glows grave grove guavas hail hand heart heaven Hence Herrera hour human voice hung inspire Jacqueline light live lumbus Maximian melt MEMORY mighty Wind mind Muse night o'er once pensive pleasure rapture resigned rise rite round rude sacred sail says scene secret seraph shade shine shone shore sigh silent sleep smile song soon sooth sorrow soul sphere spirit spring steals sung sweet swell tears tempest thee thine thou thought thro trace trembling triumphs truth Twas vales VESPASIAN VIRGIL's tomb voice Voyage wake wave weep whence wild wind wings youth Zemi
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 16 - Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain. Awake but one, and lo, what myriads rise ! * Each stamps its image as the other flies.
Сторінка 134 - CHLOE'S eye ; Then, trembling, left its coral cell — The spring of Sensibility ! Sweet drop of pure and pearly light ! In thee the rays of Virtue shine ; More calmly clear, more mildly bright, Than any gem that gilds the mine.
Сторінка 152 - MINE be a cot beside the hill, A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear ; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall, shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch Shall twitter from her clay-built nest ; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest.
Сторінка 103 - Tho' shut so close thy laughing eyes, Thy rosy lips still wear a smile, And move, and breathe delicious sighs ! — Ah, now soft blushes tinge her cheeks, And mantle o'er her neck of snow. Ah, now she murmurs, now she speaks What most I wish — and fear to know. She starts, she trembles, and she weeps ! Her fair hands folded on her breast. — And now, how like a saint she sleeps ! A seraph in the realms of rest ! Sleep on secure ! Above...
Сторінка 40 - Than when the shades of time serenely fall On every broken arch and ivied wall; The tender images we love to trace, Steal from each year a melancholy grace ! And as the sparks of social love expand, As the heart opens in a foreign land; And, with a brother's warmth, a brother's smile, The stranger greets each native of his isle...
Сторінка 163 - CHILD of the sun ! pursue thy rapturous flight, Mingling with her thou lov'st in fields of light; And, where the flowers of Paradise unfold, Quaff fragrant nectar from their cups of gold. There shall thy wings, rich as an evening sky, Expand and shut with silent ecstasy!
Сторінка 83 - But little do men perceive what solitude is, and how far it extendeth. For a crowd is not company, and faces are but a gallery of pictures, and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love.
Сторінка 12 - Her tattered mantle and her hood of straw ; Her moving lips, her caldron brimming o'er ; The drowsy brood that on her back she bore, Imps in the barn with mousing owlets bred, From rifled roost at nightly revel fed ; Whose dark eyes flashed through locks of blackest shade, When in the breeze the distant watch-dog bayed: And heroes fled the sibyl's muttered call, Whose elfin prowess scaled the orchard wall.
Сторінка 248 - Young man, there is America, which at this day serves for little more than to amuse you with stories of savage men and uncouth manners ; yet shall, before you taste of death, show itself equal to the whole of that commerce which now attracts the envy of the world.
Сторінка 31 - To view the fairy-haunts of long-lost hours, Blest with far greener shades, far fresher flowers. Ages and climes remote to Thee impart What charms in Genius, and refines in Art ; Thee, in whose hand the keys of Science dwell, The pensive portress of her holy cell ; Whose constant vigils chase the chilling damp Oblivion steals upon her vestal-lamp.