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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... voice Yes ! there are sounds Of revelry within the palaces , And the fair castles of our ancient lords , Where now the stranger banquets . Ye may hear From thence the peals of song and laughter rise At midnight's deepest hour . Third ...
... voice Yes ! there are sounds Of revelry within the palaces , And the fair castles of our ancient lords , Where now the stranger banquets . Ye may hear From thence the peals of song and laughter rise At midnight's deepest hour . Third ...
Сторінка 11
... voice Into low fearful whispers , and to cast Pale jealous looks around thee , lest , e'en then , Strangers should catch its echo ? Is there aught In this so precious , that thy furrow'd cheek Is blanch'd with terror at the passing ...
... voice Into low fearful whispers , and to cast Pale jealous looks around thee , lest , e'en then , Strangers should catch its echo ? Is there aught In this so precious , that thy furrow'd cheek Is blanch'd with terror at the passing ...
Сторінка 12
... voice , Then fare ye well . A Youth ( coming forward . ) No , no ! say on , say on ! There are still free and fiery hearts e'en here , That kindle at thy words . Peasant . Thou hast a hope to give us Procida . If that indeed There is ...
... voice , Then fare ye well . A Youth ( coming forward . ) No , no ! say on , say on ! There are still free and fiery hearts e'en here , That kindle at thy words . Peasant . Thou hast a hope to give us Procida . If that indeed There is ...
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... voice ? - Vittoria . Love ! make love's name thy spell , And I am strong ! - the very word calls up From the dark past , thoughts , feelings , powers array'd In arms against thee ! Know'st thou whom I loved , While my soul's dwelling ...
... voice ? - Vittoria . Love ! make love's name thy spell , And I am strong ! - the very word calls up From the dark past , thoughts , feelings , powers array'd In arms against thee ! Know'st thou whom I loved , While my soul's dwelling ...
Сторінка 17
... voice Of Fame hath told afar , that thou shouldst wed This tyrant Eribert . Vittoria . And told it not A tale of insolent love repell'd with scorn , Of stern commands and fearful menaces Met with indignant courage ? - Procida ! It was ...
... voice Of Fame hath told afar , that thou shouldst wed This tyrant Eribert . Vittoria . And told it not A tale of insolent love repell'd with scorn , Of stern commands and fearful menaces Met with indignant courage ? - Procida ! It was ...
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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...