The Ladies' Wreath: A Selection from the Female Poetic Writers of England and America : with Original Notices and Notes : Prepared Especially for Young Ladies : a Gift Book for All SeasonsMarsh, Capen & Lyon, 1837 - 408 стор. |
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Сторінка 18
... cheek with half unconscious flow ? Something was there , that through the lingering night Outwatches patiently the taper's light ; Something that faints not through the day's distress , That fears not toil , that knows not weariness ...
... cheek with half unconscious flow ? Something was there , that through the lingering night Outwatches patiently the taper's light ; Something that faints not through the day's distress , That fears not toil , that knows not weariness ...
Сторінка 27
... cheek rose and fell ; and his bright hair Waved softly to your breath ! - You ne'er kept watch Beside him till the last pale star had set , And morn , all dazzling , as in triumph broke On your dim weary eye : not yours the face Which ...
... cheek rose and fell ; and his bright hair Waved softly to your breath ! - You ne'er kept watch Beside him till the last pale star had set , And morn , all dazzling , as in triumph broke On your dim weary eye : not yours the face Which ...
Сторінка 30
... cheek that glows , The tear from hidden springs , The thorn , and glory of the rose These are undying things . - Wave after wave , of mighty stream , To the deep sea hath gone ; Yet not the less , like youth's bright dream , The ...
... cheek that glows , The tear from hidden springs , The thorn , and glory of the rose These are undying things . - Wave after wave , of mighty stream , To the deep sea hath gone ; Yet not the less , like youth's bright dream , The ...
Сторінка 49
... cheek — Love ! love ! of mortal agony , Thou , only thou should'st speak ! - The wind rose high , but with it rose Her voice , that he might hear : Perchance that dark hour brought repose To happy bosoms near , While she sat striving ...
... cheek — Love ! love ! of mortal agony , Thou , only thou should'st speak ! - The wind rose high , but with it rose Her voice , that he might hear : Perchance that dark hour brought repose To happy bosoms near , While she sat striving ...
Сторінка 50
... cheek such kisses press'd As hope and joy ne'er knew . Oh ! lovely are ye , Love and Faith , Enduring to the last ! She had her meed ✓ one smile in death- - And his worn spirit pass'd . While e'en as o'er a martyr's grave She knelt on ...
... cheek such kisses press'd As hope and joy ne'er knew . Oh ! lovely are ye , Love and Faith , Enduring to the last ! She had her meed ✓ one smile in death- - And his worn spirit pass'd . While e'en as o'er a martyr's grave She knelt on ...
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Barry Cornwall beauty Bernard Barton bird blessed bloom blossoms bosom bower breast breath bright brow CAROLINE BOWLES charms cheek child childhood clouds cold dark dear death deep doth dreams earth earthly fade fair fancy father fear feel FELICIA HEMANS flowers fond gaze Genie genius gentle glow gone grace hand happy hath hear heart heaven Hemans holy hope hour Joanna Baillie lady life's light lips literary lonely look lute lyre Mary Howitt Mary Mitford mind mirth Mont Blanc mother muse ne'er neath never night o'er poems poetess poetry prayer pure rest Rienzi rose round shade sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stars stranger's heart stream sweet tears tender thee thine things thou art thou hast thought tone tree twas voice weary weep wild wings woman words young youth
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Сторінка 19 - 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 20 - 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. 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.
Сторінка 347 - She dwells with Beauty — Beauty that must die; And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh, Turning to Poison while the bee-mouth sips: Ay, in the very temple of Delight Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine, Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine; His soul shall taste the sadness of her might, And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
Сторінка 24 - 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.
Сторінка 115 - DOWN in a green and shady bed, A modest violet grew, Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, As if to hide from view.
Сторінка 36 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at. the north-wind's breath, And stars to set — but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death.
Сторінка 164 - I've always felt for you? I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice; I'm sure you're very welcome — will you please to take a slice ? " " Oh, no, no," said the little fly, " kind sir, that cannot be ; I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see.
Сторінка 58 - How the lone paths retrace where thou wert playing So late, along the mountains, at my side ? And I, in joyous pride, By every place of flowers my course delaying Wove, e'en as pearls, the lilies round thy hair, Beholding thee so fair!
Сторінка 55 - ... and dew-bright eye, And the bounding footstep, to meet me fly ! With the lyre, and the wreath, and the joyous lay, Come forth to the sunshine — I may not stay. Away from the dwellings of care-worn men, The waters are sparkling in grove and glen ! Away from the chamber and sullen hearth, ( The young leaves are dancing in breezy mirth ! Their light stems thrill to the wild-wood strains, And youth is abroad in my green domains...
Сторінка 163 - With soaring up so high ; Will you rest upon my little bed?" Said the Spider to the Fly. " There are pretty curtains drawn around ; The sheets are fine and thin, And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!