Records of Woman: And Other PoemsW. Blackwood, 1853 - 276 стор. |
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... never ended , written and erased , incoherent and rational , yet remain among her papers . " - DISRAELI'S Curiosities of Literature . The following poem , meant as some record of her fate , and the imagined fluctuations of her thoughts ...
... never ended , written and erased , incoherent and rational , yet remain among her papers . " - DISRAELI'S Curiosities of Literature . The following poem , meant as some record of her fate , and the imagined fluctuations of her thoughts ...
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... . Hark ! a bell's slow chime ! My heart strikes with it . Yet again - ' tis time ! A step - a voice ! —or but a rising breeze ? Hark - haste ! -I come to meet thee on the seas ! Now never more , VI oh never in the worth.
... . Hark ! a bell's slow chime ! My heart strikes with it . Yet again - ' tis time ! A step - a voice ! —or but a rising breeze ? Hark - haste ! -I come to meet thee on the seas ! Now never more , VI oh never in the worth.
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And Other Poems Mrs. Hemans. Now never more , VI oh never in the worth Of its pure cause , let sorrowing love on earth Trust fondly - never more ! The hope is crushed That lit my life , the voice within me hushed That spoke sweet oracles ...
And Other Poems Mrs. Hemans. Now never more , VI oh never in the worth Of its pure cause , let sorrowing love on earth Trust fondly - never more ! The hope is crushed That lit my life , the voice within me hushed That spoke sweet oracles ...
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... Never might shame on that bright head be : Her blood was the Greek's , and hath made her free ! Proudly she stands , like an Indian bride On the pyre with the holy dead beside : But a shriek from her mother hath caught her ear , As the ...
... Never might shame on that bright head be : Her blood was the Greek's , and hath made her free ! Proudly she stands , like an Indian bride On the pyre with the holy dead beside : But a shriek from her mother hath caught her ear , As the ...
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... Never ! oh , never more ! though still thy sky Be blue as then , my glorious Italy ! And though the music , whose rich breathings fill Thine air with soul , be wandering past me still ; And though the mantle of thy sunlight streams ...
... Never ! oh , never more ! though still thy sky Be blue as then , my glorious Italy ! And though the music , whose rich breathings fill Thine air with soul , be wandering past me still ; And though the mantle of thy sunlight streams ...
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ARABELLA STUART art thou banners bard beauty bird blue bosom bowers breast breath breeze bright Bright waves brow CADER IDRIS Cambrian CASWALLON cheek child cloud crown dark dead death deep dream dwell earth fair farewell fear flowers foam gaze gentle glad glance gleam gloom glory glow GLYNDWR'S gone grave green grief Gwynedd hall harp hath haunted heart heaven hills holy hour hushed leaves light Llywarch Hen lone look lyre midst mother mournful murmur night o'er OWAIN CYFEILIOG pale passed planxty poured proud rill ringdove rock rose round shadow shining silent singing sleep smile Snowdon soft song soul sound spirit star stood storm strain stream sunny sweet swell sword tears thee thine thou art Thou hast thought thrill tomb tone Twas unto voice wandering warriors wave weep Welsh whisper wild winds woods young
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Сторінка 149 - Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea ; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free...
Сторінка 148 - 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 95 - 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 149 - From his nest by the white wave's foam ; And the rocking pines of the forest roared, — This was their welcome home ! There were men with hoary hair Amidst that pilgrim Land; 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 1 They sought a faith's pure...
Сторінка 168 - O'er each fair sleeping brow ; She had each folded flower in sight, — Where are those dreamers now ? 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.
Сторінка 192 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Сторінка 2 - In penury and pain too many a year, And, dying in despondency, bequeath To the kind world, which scarce will yield a tear A heritage enriching all who breathe With the wealth of a genuine poet's soul, And to...
Сторінка 104 - Lay down my warlike banners here, Never again to wave, And bury my red sword and spear, Chiefs ! in my first-born's grave ! And leave me ! — I have conquered, I have slain : my work is done ! Whom have I slain ? Ye answer not — Thou too art mute, my son...
Сторінка 2 - The time passed ; the waves were rising ; Arabella was not there; but in the distance he descried a vessel. Hiring a fisherman to take him on board...
Сторінка 216 - HOW could Fancy crown with thee In ancient days the God of Wine, And bid thee at the banquet be Companion of the vine? Thy home, wild plant, is where each sound Of revelry hath long been o'er, Where song's full notes once peal'd around, But now are heard no more.