The Works of Mrs. Hemans, with a Memoir by Her Sister, and an Essay on Her Genius by Mrs. Sigourney ...

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Lea and Blanchard, 1840

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Página 197 - Where slaves once more their native land behold, No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold. To Be, contents his natural desire, He asks no Angel's wing, no Seraph's fire; But thinks, admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company.
Página 107 - His steps are not upon thy paths— thy fields Are not a spoil for him— thou dost arise And shake him from thee ; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth — there let him lay.
Página 276 - In darkness, and amid the many shapes Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart, How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee, O sylvan Wye! Thou wanderer thro' the woods, How often has my spirit turned to thee!
Página 39 - SHE was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of twilight fair; Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn: A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
Página 288 - DEAR GODCHILD, I offer up the same fervent prayer for you now, as I did kneeling before the altar, when you were baptized into Christ, and solemnly received as a living member of his spiritual body, the Church. Years must pass before you will be able to read, with an understanding heart, what I now write. But I trust that the all-gracious God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of Mercies, who, by his...
Página 111 - Clothing the palpable and the familiar With golden exhalations of the dawn. Whatever fortunes wait my future toils, The beautiful is vanished — and returns not.
Página 193 - ... •Charlie is my darling, my darling, my darling, Charlie is my darling, The young Chevalier!
Página 314 - Send out their inmates in a happy flow, . Like a freed vernal stream; I may not tread With them those pathways — to the feverish bed Of sickness bound ; yet, O my God ! I bless Thy mercy, that with Sabbath peace hath fill'd My chasten'd heart, and all its throbbings still'd To one deep calm of lowliest thankfulness.
Página 33 - Fall on my waken'd spirit, there to be A seed not lost ; — for which, in darker years, O book of Heaven ! I pour, with grateful tears, Heart blessings on the holy dead and thee ! III.— REPOSE OF A HOLY FAMILY.
Página 200 - Never let me hear that brave blood has been shed in vain! It sends a roaring voice down through all time ! " In the evening we had music. Not being able to sing, I read to him the words of a Bearnaise song, on the captivity of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette in the Temple ; though simple even to homeliness, they affected him to tears, and he begged me not to finish them.* I think the • This song will now, perhaps, he read with interest.

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