The Poetical MelangeG. A. Douglas, 1828 |
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Página xii
... hear thee speak of the better land , I pity bashful men , who feel the pain , I saw an aged beggar in my walk , I used to love thee , simple flower , I wish I was where Anna lies , .......... Page . 166 84 . 189 ...... 244 10 185 199 1 ...
... hear thee speak of the better land , I pity bashful men , who feel the pain , I saw an aged beggar in my walk , I used to love thee , simple flower , I wish I was where Anna lies , .......... Page . 166 84 . 189 ...... 244 10 185 199 1 ...
Página 1
... hear his voice ! sweet as the breath Of balmy ground - flowers stealing from some spot Of sunshine sacred , in a gloomy wood , To everlasting spring . In the church - yard Where now he sleeps - the day before he died , Silent we sat ...
... hear his voice ! sweet as the breath Of balmy ground - flowers stealing from some spot Of sunshine sacred , in a gloomy wood , To everlasting spring . In the church - yard Where now he sleeps - the day before he died , Silent we sat ...
Página 5
... hear ; And his father's smile and his mother's tear . And a troubled joy seemed yet to flow From the thought of his youth's glad hours ; And a smile passed over his wasted brow Like the sun o'er withered flowers . And his burning hands ...
... hear ; And his father's smile and his mother's tear . And a troubled joy seemed yet to flow From the thought of his youth's glad hours ; And a smile passed over his wasted brow Like the sun o'er withered flowers . And his burning hands ...
Página 6
... hear that sound no more . And death , like a sleep on his young heart fell , ' Mid the thoughts of the home he had loved so well . A. B. P. THE HOME FEVER . [ From the Manuscript of a Volume of Original Poems which will shortly be ...
... hear that sound no more . And death , like a sleep on his young heart fell , ' Mid the thoughts of the home he had loved so well . A. B. P. THE HOME FEVER . [ From the Manuscript of a Volume of Original Poems which will shortly be ...
Página 41
... hear . He passed where Newark's stately tower . Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower : The Minstrel gazed with wishful eye- No humbler resting - place was nigh . With hesitating step , at last , The embattled portal - arch he past ...
... hear . He passed where Newark's stately tower . Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower : The Minstrel gazed with wishful eye- No humbler resting - place was nigh . With hesitating step , at last , The embattled portal - arch he past ...
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Outras edições - Ver tudo
The Poetical Melange. [Compiled by G. A. Douglas.], Volume 2 George A. Douglas Visualização integral - 1828 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
Anon beam beauty beneath blessed blest bliss bloom bosom bower breast breath bright brow Byron calm charm cheek child clouds cold Cumnor dark dead dear death deep doom dream dust earth eternal fade fair Farewell father fear feel fled flowers frae gazed glory glowing gone grave grief harp hast hath heart heaven Helvellyn hope hour John Malcolm Kilmeny land life's light lisp live lonely look LORD BYRON Mariamne MINSTREL BOY morning mortal mother mountain mourn ne'er never night o'er peace perished band praise prayer rapture rest rose round Samian wine scene seraph shade shed shining book shore sigh silent skies sleep slumber smile song sorrow soul spirit star sweet tears tempest thee thine thou art thought tomb trembling Twas twill vile bands voice wave ween weep wept wild winds wing youth
Passagens conhecidas
Página 131 - ALL thoughts,' all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve...
Página 24 - Tis now become a history little known, That once we call'd the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession ! but the record fair, That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Página 85 - The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse : Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further west Than your sires'
Página 222 - Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, So sweet, we know not we are listening to it, Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my Thought, Yea, with my Life and Life's own secret joy: Till the dilating Soul, enrapt, transfused, Into the mighty vision passing — there As in her natural form, swelled vast to Heaven.
Página 85 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earned.
Página 37 - Then shook the hills with thunder riven, Then rushed the steed to battle driven, And louder than the bolts of heaven Far flashed the red artillery. But redder yet that light shall glow On Linden's hills of stained snow, And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulph'rous canopy.
Página 166 - Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings.
Página 37 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Página 62 - If aught should tempt my soul to stray From heavenly wisdom's narrow way ; To fly the good I would pursue, Or do the sin I would not do ; Still He, who felt temptation's power, Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.
Página 22 - THAT those lips had language ! Life has passed With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine — thy own sweet smile I see, The same, that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, " Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away...