The Works of Mrs. Hemans, with a Memoir by Her Sister, and an Essay on Her Genius by Mrs. Sigourney ...Lea and Blanchard, 1840 |
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... storm might gather . But this yoke of France Falls on the peasant's neck as heavily As on the crested chieftain's . We are bow'd E'en to the earth . Peasant's Child . My father , tell me when Shall the gay dance and song again resound ...
... storm might gather . But this yoke of France Falls on the peasant's neck as heavily As on the crested chieftain's . We are bow'd E'en to the earth . Peasant's Child . My father , tell me when Shall the gay dance and song again resound ...
Сторінка 12
... storms : that royal blood Hath lifted an accusing voice from earth , And hath been heard . The traces of the past Fade in man's heart , but ne'er doth Heaven forget . Peasant . Had we but arms and leaders , we are men Who might earn ...
... storms : that royal blood Hath lifted an accusing voice from earth , And hath been heard . The traces of the past Fade in man's heart , but ne'er doth Heaven forget . Peasant . Had we but arms and leaders , we are men Who might earn ...
Сторінка 14
... storms Unfold its beauty to the breath of spring ; And shall not woman's heart , from chill despair , Wake at love's voice ? - Vittoria . Love ! make love's name thy spell , And I am strong ! - the very word calls up From the dark past ...
... storms Unfold its beauty to the breath of spring ; And shall not woman's heart , from chill despair , Wake at love's voice ? - Vittoria . Love ! make love's name thy spell , And I am strong ! - the very word calls up From the dark past ...
Сторінка 24
... storms , With still a mighty aim . But now the shades Of eve are gathering round me , and I come To this , my native land , that I may rest Beneath its vines in peace . Raimond . Seek'st thou for peace ? This is no land of peace ...
... storms , With still a mighty aim . But now the shades Of eve are gathering round me , and I come To this , my native land , that I may rest Beneath its vines in peace . Raimond . Seek'st thou for peace ? This is no land of peace ...
Сторінка 26
... storm hath cheer'd him . Raimond . Dost thou deem That still he lives ? -Oh ! if it be in chains , In woe , in poverty's obscurest cell , Say but he lives — and I will track his steps E'en to earth's verge ! Procida . It may be that he ...
... storm hath cheer'd him . Raimond . Dost thou deem That still he lives ? -Oh ! if it be in chains , In woe , in poverty's obscurest cell , Say but he lives — and I will track his steps E'en to earth's verge ! Procida . It may be that he ...
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The Works of Mrs. Hemans, with a Memoir by Her Sister, and an Essay on Her ... Mrs. Hemans Перегляд фрагмента - 1840 |
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Anselmo ARABELLA STUART art thou assagay bands banner beautiful beneath bow'd brave breast breath breeze bright brow cheek clouds Conradin Constance Couci dark dead death deep doth dreams dwell e'en earth Eribert Ev'n fair father fear flowers gaze gentle glad glance gleam gloom glorious glow gone grave green grief Guido hath heart heaven hour human voice hush'd Joanna Baillie leaves light lips lone look look'd lyre midst Montalba mournful night noble o'er pale Palermo pass'd passion planxty pour'd Procida proud Provençal Raimond rose round SCENE seem'd Sicilians Sicily silent sleep slumber smile soft solemn song soul sound speak spirit stood storm stream strong sunny sweet sword tears thee thine things thou art Thou hast thought thro tomb tone Twas unto Vittoria voice warrior wave whisper wild winds woman's wouldst young youth
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Сторінка 277 - Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came, Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame. Not as the flying come, In silence, and in fear ; They shook the depths of the desert's gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer.
Сторінка 277 - 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 240 - O good old man ; how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed ! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat, but for promotion; And having that, do choke their service up Even with the having: it is not so with thee.
Сторінка 254 - Look on the fiends around — they feel for me : I fear them not, and feel for thee alone — Speak to me ! though it be...
Сторінка 279 - Scarce seen, but with fresh bitterness imbued; And slight withal may be the things which bring Back on the heart the weight which it would fling Aside for ever: it may be a sound— A tone of music— summer's eve— or spring— A flower— the wind — the ocean— which shall wound, Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound...
Сторінка 125 - I have look'd o'er the hills of the stormy north, And the larch has hung all his tassels forth, The fisher is out on the sunny sea, And the reindeer bounds...
Сторінка 144 - Through many a joyous hour, Where the silvery green of the olive shade Hung dim o'er fount and bower. Yes, thou and I, by stream, by shore, In song, in prayer, in sleep, Have been, as we may be no more ; Kind sister, let me weep...
Сторінка 224 - Through glowing orchards forth they peep, Each from its nook of leaves, And fearless there the lowly sleep, As the bird beneath their eaves. The free, fair Homes of England ! Long, long, in hut and hall, May hearts of native proof be reared To guard each hallowed wall! And green for ever be the groves, And bright the flowery sod, Where first the child's glad spirit loves Its country and its God !* THE SICILIAN CAPTIVE.
Сторінка 125 - I come, I come ! ye have called me long, I come o'er the mountains with light and song ; Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth, By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass, By the green leaves opening as I pass.
Сторінка 129 - Yet further may relent : for mightier far Than strength of nerve and sinew, or the sway Of magic potent over sun and star, Is love, though oft to agony distrest, And though his favourite seat be feeble woman's breast. But if thou goest, I follow...