The Casket: A Literary Present for Youth

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W. Marshall, 1834 - 136 стор.
 

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Сторінка 32 - Go, Sun, while Mercy holds me up On Nature's awful waste To drink this last and bitter cup Of grief that man shall taste — Go, tell the night that hides thy face, Thou saw'st the last of Adam's race, On Earth's sepulchral clod, The darkening universe defy To quench his Immortality, Or shake his trust in God ! A DREAM.
Сторінка 120 - With flowing tail and flying mane, Wide nostrils, never stretched by pain. Mouths bloodless to the bit or rein, And feet that iron never shod, And flanks unscarred by spur or rod, A thousand horse, the wild, the free, Like waves that follow o'er the sea, Came thickly thundering on, As if our faint approach to meet ; The sight renerved my courser's feet.
Сторінка 30 - The eclipse of Nature spreads my pall, — The majesty of Darkness shall Receive my parting ghost! This spirit shall return to Him That gave its heavenly spark; Yet think not, Sun, it shall be dim When thou thyself art dark! No ! it shall live again, and shine In bliss unknown to beams of thine, By him recall'd to breath, Who captive led captivity, Who robb'd the grave of Victory, — And took the sting from Death...
Сторінка 71 - Even now what affections the violet awakes; What loved little islands, twice seen in their lakes, Can the wild water-lily restore ; What landscapes I read in the primrose's looks, And what pictures of pebbled and minnowy brooks, In the vetches that tangled their shore. Earth's cultureless buds, to my heart ye were dear, Ere the fever of passion, or ague of fear, Had scathed my existence's bloom ; Once I welcome you more, in life's passionless stage, With the visions of youth to revisit my age, And...
Сторінка 30 - Even I am weary in yon skies To watch thy fading fire; Test of all sumless agonies, Behold not me expire. My lips, that speak thy dirge of death, — Their rounded gasp and gurgling breath To see thou shalt not boast. The eclipse of Nature spreads my pall, The majesty of darkness shall Receive my parting ghost!
Сторінка 30 - Go, let oblivion's curtain fall Upon the stage of men, Nor with thy rising beams recall Life's tragedy again. Its piteous pageants bring not back, Nor waken flesh, upon the rack Of pain anew to writhe ; Stretch'd in disease's shapes abhorr'd, Or mown in battle by the sword, Like grass beneath the scythe.
Сторінка 52 - A REFLECTION AT SEA. SEE how, beneath the moonbeam's smile, Yon little billow heaves its breast, And foams and sparkles for a while, And murmuring then subsides to rest. Thus man, the sport of bliss and care, Rises on Time's eventful sea ; And, having swell'da moment there, Thus melts into eternity ! AN INVITATION TO SUPPER TO MRS.
Сторінка 118 - Prejudice," of which it has been truly said, that it has the singular ability of accommodating itself to all the possible varieties of the human mind. Some passions and vices are but thinly scattered among mankind, and find only here and there a fitness of reception. But prejudice, like the spider, makes every where its home.
Сторінка 31 - Yet, prophet-like, that lone one stood, With dauntless words and high, That shook the sere leaves from the wood, As if a storm passed by...
Сторінка 56 - That very law* which moulds a tear, And bids it trickle from its source, That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course.

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