The pleasures of hope, Gertrude of Wyoming, and other poems. To which are added, Collins' & Gray's poetical works1854 |
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Сторінка 11
... bosom , true to sympathy ! Where is the troubled heart , consigned to share Tumultuous toils , or solitary care , Unblest by visionary thoughts that stray To count the joys of Fortune's better day ! Lo , nature , life , and liberty ...
... bosom , true to sympathy ! Where is the troubled heart , consigned to share Tumultuous toils , or solitary care , Unblest by visionary thoughts that stray To count the joys of Fortune's better day ! Lo , nature , life , and liberty ...
Сторінка 17
... bosom swell , And fate and freedom in the shaft of Tell ! Say , ye fond zealots to the worth of yore , Hath Valour left the world - to live no more ? No more shall Brutus bid a tyrant die , And sternly smile with vengeance in his eye ...
... bosom swell , And fate and freedom in the shaft of Tell ! Say , ye fond zealots to the worth of yore , Hath Valour left the world - to live no more ? No more shall Brutus bid a tyrant die , And sternly smile with vengeance in his eye ...
Сторінка 30
... bosom of her lord , And wept , and pray'd perdition from his sword ! Nor sought in vain ! at that heart - piercing cry The strings of nature crack'd with agony ! He , with delirious laugh , the dagger hurl'd , And burst the ties that ...
... bosom of her lord , And wept , and pray'd perdition from his sword ! Nor sought in vain ! at that heart - piercing cry The strings of nature crack'd with agony ! He , with delirious laugh , the dagger hurl'd , And burst the ties that ...
Сторінка 34
... bosom of her God ! Oh ! lives there , Heav'n ! beneath thy dread expanse , One hopeless , dark Idolater of Chance , Content to feed , with pleasures unrefin'd , The lukewarm passions of a lowly mind ; Who , mould'ring earthward , ' reft ...
... bosom of her God ! Oh ! lives there , Heav'n ! beneath thy dread expanse , One hopeless , dark Idolater of Chance , Content to feed , with pleasures unrefin'd , The lukewarm passions of a lowly mind ; Who , mould'ring earthward , ' reft ...
Сторінка 37
... bosom bleeds , but soon shall bleed no more ! Short shall this half - extinguish'd spirit burn , And soon these limbs to kindred dust return ! But not , my child , with life's precarious fire , Th ' immortal ties of Nature shall expire ...
... bosom bleeds , but soon shall bleed no more ! Short shall this half - extinguish'd spirit burn , And soon these limbs to kindred dust return ! But not , my child , with life's precarious fire , Th ' immortal ties of Nature shall expire ...
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The Pleasures of Hope. Gertrude of Wyoming, and Other Poems Thomas Campbell Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2015 |
The Pleasures of Hope, Gertrude of Wyoming, and Other Poems. to Which Are ... Thomas Campbell, M.D. Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2016 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
Abra amidst ANTISTROPHE arms battle beauty beneath bless'd bliss blood bosom breath bright brow charm child Circassia clime dark dear death deep delight dread dream dress'd e'en earth ECLOGUE Eirin fair fairy Fancy fate father Fcap fear fire flowers Gertrude GERTRUDE OF WYOMING gilt edges grace green grief grove hail hand hast hath hear heard heart Heav'n Hope hour Indian isle John Gilbert Julius Cæsar land life's light Lochiel lonely lov'd Loxian lyre maid Margaret of Anjou morn mountain mourn murmurs Muse native Nature's night numbers Nymph o'er ODIN peace pensive Petrarch Pindar plains pleasure rapture reign rocks round sacred scene shade shore sigh smile song sorrow soul spirit storm sung swain sweet sword tears thee thou thought thunder trembling triumph Truth Twas vale wave weep wild winds woods youth
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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 77 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
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?