The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive Poetry, Volumen2Alaric Alexander Watts Hurst, Chance, and Company, 1829 |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 51
Página 4
... feeling from their own . From flank to centre , and from rear to van , The billowing , crackling conflagration ran , - Wraps earth in sulphurous wave , and now the skies With tall colossal magnitude defies , - Extends her base , while ...
... feeling from their own . From flank to centre , and from rear to van , The billowing , crackling conflagration ran , - Wraps earth in sulphurous wave , and now the skies With tall colossal magnitude defies , - Extends her base , while ...
Página 5
... cloys ! Here - might is weakness , and herself destroys ! Lead then thy southern myriads locked in steel , Lead on ! too soon their nerveless arm shall feel Those magazines impregnable of snow , That kill without a THE POETICAL ALBUM . 5.
... cloys ! Here - might is weakness , and herself destroys ! Lead then thy southern myriads locked in steel , Lead on ! too soon their nerveless arm shall feel Those magazines impregnable of snow , That kill without a THE POETICAL ALBUM . 5.
Página 31
... turned , Like Marah's wave , to bitterness . And is this , then , the curse that clings To minstrel hope , to minstrel feeling ? Is this the cloud that destiny Flings o'er the spirit's high revealing ? It is it is ! tread on thy way ,
... turned , Like Marah's wave , to bitterness . And is this , then , the curse that clings To minstrel hope , to minstrel feeling ? Is this the cloud that destiny Flings o'er the spirit's high revealing ? It is it is ! tread on thy way ,
Página 32
... feel , or let thy soul Be for one moment pure or free ; Then shrink away at once from life , — Its path will be no path for thee ! Pour forth thy fervid soul in song— There are some that may praise thy lays ; But of all earth's dim ...
... feel , or let thy soul Be for one moment pure or free ; Then shrink away at once from life , — Its path will be no path for thee ! Pour forth thy fervid soul in song— There are some that may praise thy lays ; But of all earth's dim ...
Página 33
... feeling wrung , until the heart Could bear no more , so broke at last . Thus withering amid the wreck Of sweet hopes , high imaginings , What can the minstrel do but die , Cursing his too beloved strings ! Literary Gazette . L. E. L. D ...
... feeling wrung , until the heart Could bear no more , so broke at last . Thus withering amid the wreck Of sweet hopes , high imaginings , What can the minstrel do but die , Cursing his too beloved strings ! Literary Gazette . L. E. L. D ...
Contenido
1 | |
11 | |
24 | |
30 | |
37 | |
42 | |
49 | |
57 | |
63 | |
70 | |
77 | |
84 | |
92 | |
98 | |
104 | |
110 | |
122 | |
129 | |
136 | |
142 | |
153 | |
157 | |
166 | |
172 | |
179 | |
185 | |
191 | |
197 | |
262 | |
268 | |
274 | |
282 | |
288 | |
295 | |
304 | |
310 | |
316 | |
322 | |
328 | |
334 | |
340 | |
347 | |
353 | |
359 | |
367 | |
373 | |
379 | |
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Términos y frases comunes
art thou BARRY CORNWALL beauty beneath Blackwood's Magazine blest bliss bloom blue bosom bower breast breath breeze bright brow calm charms cheek child clouds cold courser dark dear death deep dream earth fading fair fancy farewell fear flowers gaze gentle gleam glow Godiva gondolier grave green grief hand Harebells hath heart heaven hope hour hyæna J. G. LOCKHART JAMES HOGG JOHN MOULTRIE kiss life's light lips Literary Gazette Literary Souvenir lonely look LORD BYRON lute lyre mirth morn mourn ne'er never night numbers o'er Olmutz pale pride rapture rock round scene shade shine shore sigh silent skies sleep slumber smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star stream sweet tears tell thee thine THOMAS DOUBLEDAY thou art thou hast thou wert thought tomb voice wandering wave weep wild wind wings young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 223 - Beyond the flight of time, Beyond this vale of death, There surely is some blessed clime, Where life is not a breath ; Nor life's affections transient fire, Whose sparks fly upward...
Página 221 - Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers...
Página 89 - All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair — The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing — And Winter slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring! And I the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Página 208 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Página 202 - THE boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but him had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck, Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm ; A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though child-like form.
Página 221 - To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Página 155 - ALL worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, The Sun himself must die, Before this mortal shall assume Its immortality ! I saw a vision in my sleep, That gave my spirit strength to sweep Adown the gulf of Time ! I...
Página 203 - The boy — oh ! where was he ? Ask of the winds, that far around With fragments strewed the sea ! With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, That well had borne their part — But the noblest thing that perished there, Was that young, faithful heart.
Página 156 - Go, let oblivion's curtain fall Upon the stage of men. Nor with thy rising beams recall Life's tragedy again: Its piteous pageants bring not back, Nor waken flesh, upon the rack Of pain anew to writhe; Stretched in disease's shapes abhorred, Or mown in battle by the sword, Like grass beneath the scythe.
Página 84 - No more of talk where God or angel guest With man, as with his friend, familiar used To sit indulgent, and with him partake Rural repast...