The Forest Sanctuary: And Other PoemsJ. Murray, 1825 - Всего страниц: 205 |
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Стр. 5
... head - ye rest not here ! — ' Tis not the olive , with a whisper swaying , Not thy low ripplings , glassy water , playing Through my own chesnut groves , which fill mine ear ; But the faint echoes in my breast that dwell , And for their ...
... head - ye rest not here ! — ' Tis not the olive , with a whisper swaying , Not thy low ripplings , glassy water , playing Through my own chesnut groves , which fill mine ear ; But the faint echoes in my breast that dwell , And for their ...
Стр. 7
... head , my boy ? Within thy fathers ' halls thou wilt not dwell , Nor lift their banner , with a warrior's joy , Amidst the sons of mountain chiefs , who fell For Spain of old . - Yet what if rolling waves Have borne us far from our ...
... head , my boy ? Within thy fathers ' halls thou wilt not dwell , Nor lift their banner , with a warrior's joy , Amidst the sons of mountain chiefs , who fell For Spain of old . - Yet what if rolling waves Have borne us far from our ...
Стр. 29
... head , And mantling up thy face , all colourless with dread ! LIH . And Alvar , Alvar ! -I beheld thee too , Pale , stedfast , kingly ; till thy clear glance fell On that young sister ; then perturb'd it grew , And all thy labouring ...
... head , And mantling up thy face , all colourless with dread ! LIH . And Alvar , Alvar ! -I beheld thee too , Pale , stedfast , kingly ; till thy clear glance fell On that young sister ; then perturb'd it grew , And all thy labouring ...
Стр. 49
... head , With the light melting through their high arcades , As through a pillar'd cloister's 11 : but the dead Sleep not beneath ; nor doth the sunbeam pass To marble shrines through rainbow - tinted glass ; Yet thou , by fount and ...
... head , With the light melting through their high arcades , As through a pillar'd cloister's 11 : but the dead Sleep not beneath ; nor doth the sunbeam pass To marble shrines through rainbow - tinted glass ; Yet thou , by fount and ...
Стр. 53
... head , had I found the dawn , And day , and noon of freedom : -but too bright It shines on that which man to man hath given , And call'd the truth - the very truth , from Heaven ! And therefore seeks he , in his brother's sight , To ...
... head , had I found the dawn , And day , and noon of freedom : -but too bright It shines on that which man to man hath given , And call'd the truth - the very truth , from Heaven ! And therefore seeks he , in his brother's sight , To ...
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The Forest Sanctuary: And Other Poems Felicia Dorothea Browne Hemans,Mrs. Hemans Полный просмотр - 1825 |
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ancient arm'd art thou Bartram's Travels bended Bow blast blue streams bowers brave breast breath breeze bright land brow burst cave chant cheek dark dead death deep didst Doth dreams earth ev'n fade faint fair brow faithful band falchion farewell father fled floating forest fount gaze glance gleam gloom grave hath hear heard heart Heaven hour house of sleep hush'd Ianthis joyous Lake of Lucerne leave light lone look look'd lov'd midst mighty mirth mournful night o'er Odin Odin's Hall pale phantom horses pines pour'd rest Richard Coeur-de-Lion rills Rio verde rocks Sea-king seas seem'd shades shadow shining shore silent sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit spring step stood streams sung sweet sword tears thee Theseus thine thou art Thou hast thou wert thought tomb tone voice pass'd wake wave weep wild wind woods wouldst thou young youth
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Стр. 188 - Yet more ! the billows and the depths have more ! High hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast ! They hear not now the booming waters roar, The battle-thunders will not break their rest. Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave...
Стр. 91 - I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea.
Стр. 97 - And because the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air (where it comes and goes like the warbling of music) than in the hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that delight, than to know what be the flowers and plants that do best perfume the air.
Стр. 146 - He lived — for life may long be borne Ere sorrow break its chain ; Why comes not death to those who mourn ? He never smiled again ! There stood proud forms around his throne, The stately and the brave, But which could fill the place of one...
Стр. 98 - In the solitude of the seas, we hail a star as a friend from whom we have long been separated. Among the Portuguese and the Spaniards peculiar motives seem to increase this feeling ; a religious sentiment attaches them to a constellation, the form of which recalls the sign of the faith planted by their ancestors in the deserts of the New World.
Стр. 92 - The vine had clasped its huge folds round the trunk, and from thence had wound about every branch and twig, until the mighty tree had withered in its embrace. It seemed like Laocoon struggling ineffectually in the hideous coils of the monster Python.
Стр. 145 - THE bark that held a prince went down. The sweeping waves roll'd on ; And what was England's glorious crown To him that wept a son? He lived — for life may long be borne Ere sorrow break its chain; Why comes not death to those who mourn? — He never smiled again!
Стр. 133 - We call them far through the silent night, And they speak not from cave or hill; We know, thou bird! that their land is bright, But say, do they love there still ? 1 1 ANSWER TO THE MESSENGER BIRD.
Стр. 199 - RING, joyous chords! — ring out again! A swifter still, and a wilder strain ! They are here — the fair face and the careless heart, And stars shall wane ere the mirthful part. — But I met a dimly mournful glance, In a sudden turn of the flying dance ; I heard the tone of a heavy sigh In a pause of the thrilling melody...
Стр. 3 - They have been with me through the dreamy night — The blessed household voices, wont to fill My heart's clear depths with unalloy'd delight ! I hear them still, unchanged: — though some from earth Are music parted, and the tones of mirth — Wild, silvery tones, that rang through days more bright ! Have died in others, — yet to me they come, Singing of boyhood back — the voices of my home!