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The Pleasures of Hope. Gertrude of Wyoming, and Other Poems
Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2015
appear arms battle beauty beneath blood bosom breath bright charm child dark dear death deep delight dread dream earth fair Fancy fate father fear fields fire gilt grace green grief hand hath head hear heard heart Heav'n hills Hope hour Illustrations Indian isle King land leave light living lonely look Lord maid meet mind morn mountain Muse native Nature never night notes o'er once Page peace plains pleasure rise rocks round sacred scene seen shade shore side sigh sight smile soft song soul sound spirit spring storm strain sweet sword tears thee thou thought trembling Truth vain vale Virtue voice warm wave weep wild winds wing woods young youth
Сторінка 138 - And though sometimes, each dreary pause between, Dejected Pity, at his side, Her soul-subduing voice applied, Yet still he kept his wild unaltered mien, While each strained ball of sight seemed bursting from his head.
Сторінка 210 - Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or wak'd to ecstasy the living lyre.
Сторінка 140 - Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round ; Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound : And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
Сторінка 76 - Tis morn; but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry!
Сторінка 211 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply; And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigned, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind?
Сторінка 141 - IN yonder grave a Druid lies, Where slowly winds the stealing wave; The year's best sweets shall duteous rise To deck its poet's sylvan grave. In yon deep bed of whispering reeds His airy harp shall now be laid, That he, whose heart in sorrow bleeds, May love through life the soothing shade.
Сторінка 182 - This pencil take' (she said), 'whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year: Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal Boy! This can unlock the gates of joy; Of horror that, and thrilling fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.
Сторінка 179 - Awake, ^Eolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take : The laughing flowers that round them blow Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the rich stream of music winds along, Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong. Thro
Сторінка 82 - I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And this, Lord Ullin's daughter. 'And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. 'His horsemen hard behind us ride — Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny bride When they have slain her lover?