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 SeasonsSarah Josepha Buell Hale Marsh, Capen, Lyon, and Webb, 1839 - 408 стор. |
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Сторінка 5
... happy . We may see , in this constitution of man's nature , why there are periods when poetry seems to decline and lose its power . These are seasons of transition ; when the mass of mankind , having applied to the purposes of social ...
... happy . We may see , in this constitution of man's nature , why there are periods when poetry seems to decline and lose its power . These are seasons of transition ; when the mass of mankind , having applied to the purposes of social ...
Сторінка 7
... happy in their domestic life , some of them eminently so . The love they excited in their families has seemed like the adoration to some superior being . Of female poets we do not recollect one of any eminence who has been found guilty ...
... happy in their domestic life , some of them eminently so . The love they excited in their families has seemed like the adoration to some superior being . Of female poets we do not recollect one of any eminence who has been found guilty ...
Сторінка 14
... Happy , Stanzas , Worldly Cares , 397 399 401 403 404 405 406 407 Is this a Day of Death , 408 SARAH JOSEPHA HALE , 409 The Coming of the Pilgrims , 415 The Victor's Crown , 417 The Light of Home , 418 New Year's Day , 419 It Snows ...
... Happy , Stanzas , Worldly Cares , 397 399 401 403 404 405 406 407 Is this a Day of Death , 408 SARAH JOSEPHA HALE , 409 The Coming of the Pilgrims , 415 The Victor's Crown , 417 The Light of Home , 418 New Year's Day , 419 It Snows ...
Сторінка 20
... happy . This domestic infelicity was to her a most painful subject , one to which she could bear no allusion ; and the tenderness and forbearance with which she , while living , treated the faults of her husband , render it the duty of ...
... happy . This domestic infelicity was to her a most painful subject , one to which she could bear no allusion ; and the tenderness and forbearance with which she , while living , treated the faults of her husband , render it the duty of ...
Сторінка 27
... happy murmurs running through the grass , Tell that thy footsteps pass . And the bright waters - they too hear thy call , Spring , the awakener ! thou hast burst their sleep ! Amidst the hollows of the rocks their fall Makes melody ...
... happy murmurs running through the grass , Tell that thy footsteps pass . And the bright waters - they too hear thy call , Spring , the awakener ! thou hast burst their sleep ! Amidst the hollows of the rocks their fall Makes melody ...
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beauty beneath Bernard Barton bird blessed bloom breast breath breeze bright brow CAROLINE BOWLES charm cheek cheer child childhood's clouds cold dark dear death deep doth dreams earth earthly fade fair fancy fear feel Felicia Hemans flowers fond gathering gaze Genie genius gentle glow gone grace happy hath hear heart heaven Hemans holy hope hopes and fears 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 passed poems poetry prayer pure rest Rienzi rose round shade shine sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit spring stars stranger's heart sweet taste tears tender thee thine things thou art thou hast thought tone tree voice wave weary weep wild winds wings woman words young youth
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Сторінка 25 - 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 283 - He went to the windows of those who slept, And over each pane like a fairy crept: Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped, By the light of the morn were seen Most beautiful things.
Сторінка 127 - 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 380 - 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 165 - We have been friends together— Shall a light word part us now? We have been gay together; We have laughed at little jests; For the fount of hope was gushing, Warm and joyous, in our breasts. But laughter now hath fled thy lip, And sullen glooms thy brow; We have been gay together— Shall a light word part us now?
Сторінка 62 - Ye of the rose lip 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 62 - From the night-bird's lay through the starry time, In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime, To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes, When the dark fir-branch into verdure breaks.
Сторінка 223 - I see Him, hear Him, everywhere, In all things — darkness, light, Silence, and sound ; but most of all, When slumber's dusky curtains fall, At the dead hour of night.
Сторінка 31 - ... O'er his low bed may weep. One sleeps where southern vines are drest Above the noble slain : He wrapt his colours round his breast On a blood-red field of Spain. And one — o'er her the myrtle showers Its leaves, by soft winds fanned ; She faded midst Italian flowers — The last of that bright band. And parted thus they rest, who played Beneath the same green tree ; Whose voices mingled as they prayed Around one parent knee...
Сторінка 282 - THE Frost looked forth one still, clear night, And whispered, " Now I shall be out of sight ; So through the valley and over the height, In silence I'll take my way. I will not go on like that blustering train, — The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain, Who make so much bustle and noise in vain, But I'll be as busy as they...