The Complete Works ...D. Appleton, 1853 |
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Mrs. Hemans. So Comme in on her Franty fack birth . da From the mother t July 19 . th 7956 , THE COMPLETE WORKS OF MRS . HEMANS , REPRINTED ENTIRE.
Mrs. Hemans. So Comme in on her Franty fack birth . da From the mother t July 19 . th 7956 , THE COMPLETE WORKS OF MRS . HEMANS , REPRINTED ENTIRE.
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... Mother , 275 Marguerite of France , 347 Where is the Sea , 276 To Caroline , 349 To My Own Portrait , ib . The Wanderer , 350 No More , 277 The Flower of the Desert , ib . Thought from an Italian Poet , 978 Troubadour Song , 351 Passing ...
... Mother , 275 Marguerite of France , 347 Where is the Sea , 276 To Caroline , 349 To My Own Portrait , ib . The Wanderer , 350 No More , 277 The Flower of the Desert , ib . Thought from an Italian Poet , 978 Troubadour Song , 351 Passing ...
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... Mother , oh , sing me to rest , ib . ib . SCENES AND HYMNS OF LIFE , & c . : - 438 There are sounds in the dark Ron ... Mother's Litany by the Sickbed of 408 FEMALE CHARACTERS OF SCRIPTURE , A SERIES OF 490 ib 493 494 The Dying Girl and ...
... Mother , oh , sing me to rest , ib . ib . SCENES AND HYMNS OF LIFE , & c . : - 438 There are sounds in the dark Ron ... Mother's Litany by the Sickbed of 408 FEMALE CHARACTERS OF SCRIPTURE , A SERIES OF 490 ib 493 494 The Dying Girl and ...
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... mother left me , with a timid hope Just dawning in her breast : and I - 1 dared To foster its faint spark .-- You smile ! -- Oh ! then He will be saved ! Eri . Nay , I but smiled to think What a fond fool is Hope ! -She may be taught To ...
... mother left me , with a timid hope Just dawning in her breast : and I - 1 dared To foster its faint spark .-- You smile ! -- Oh ! then He will be saved ! Eri . Nay , I but smiled to think What a fond fool is Hope ! -She may be taught To ...
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... mother's pangs ? What if the youthful bride perchance should fall In her triumphant beauty ? Should we pause ? As if death were not mercy to the pangs Which make our lives the records of woes ? Let them all perish ! —And if one be found ...
... mother's pangs ? What if the youthful bride perchance should fall In her triumphant beauty ? Should we pause ? As if death were not mercy to the pangs Which make our lives the records of woes ? Let them all perish ! —And if one be found ...
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art thou beauty bird bless blue stream bowers breast breath breeze bright bright band brow child clouds Conradin dark dead death deep doth dreams dwell E'en earth faint fair farewell father fear flowers gaze gentle glad glance gleam gloom glorious glory glow gone grave grief harp hath heart heaven holy hope hour Joanna Baillie leaves light lone lyre midst Montalba mountain mountain bands mournful night o'er pale pass'd pour'd prayer PROCIDA proud Provençal Raim Raimond Rhine rich rill rose round scene seem'd shadow shed shine Sicilians Sicily silent sing skies sleep smile soft soft eyes solemn song soul sound spirit stars stranger's heart stream strong sunny sweet tears thee thine things thou art Thou hast thought thrilling tomb tone Twas unto voice wandering wave weep whisper wild wind wings woods young
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Сторінка 539 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths; all these have vanished; They live no longer in the faith of reason.
Сторінка 377 - They sin who tell us Love can die, With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity. In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell, Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell ; Earthly these passions of the Earth, They perish where they have their birth ; But Love is indestructible. Its holy flame for ever burneth, From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth...
Сторінка 262 - Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand — Is it there, sweet mother, that better land ? Not there ; not there, my child.
Сторінка 168 - What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? — They sought a faith's pure shrine. Ay, call it holy ground, — The soil where first they trod! They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God ! Felicia Hemans.
Сторінка 167 - 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 167 - Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth.
Сторінка 167 - 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 gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer.
Сторінка 303 - A rose's brief, bright life of joy, Such unto him was given ; — Go ! thou must play alone, my boy ! Thy brother is in heaven.
Сторінка 478 - For the strength of the hills we bless thee, Our God, our fathers...
Сторінка 137 - Through shade and sunny gleam; And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream. The merry homes of England! Around their hearths by night, What gladsome looks of household love Meet in the ruddy light! There woman's voice flows forth in song, Or childhood's tale is told, Or lips move tunefully along Some glorious page of old.