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J. C. Walker, 1835 - 192 páginas
 

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Página 47 - If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth...
Página 131 - The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains. — Beautiful ! I linger yet with Nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man; and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness, I learn'd the language of another world.
Página 105 - Have I not had to wrestle with my lot ? Have I not suffered things to be forgiven ? Have I not had my brain seared, my heart riven, Hopes sapped, name blighted, Life's life lied away, And only not to desperation driven, Because not altogether of such clay As rots into the souls of those whom I survey...
Página 41 - In the same hour came forth fingers of a man's hand, and wrote over against the candlestick upon the plaster of the wall of the king's palace ; and the king saw the part of the hand that wrote.
Página 121 - The young village maid, when with flowers she dresses Her dark flowing hair for some festival day, Will think of thy fate till, neglecting her tresses, She mournfully turns from the mirror away.
Página 15 - Grace was in all her steps. Heaven in her eye, In every gesture dignity and love.
Página 121 - Each flower of the rock and each gem of the billow Shall sweeten thy bed and illumine thy sleep. Around thee shall glisten the loveliest amber That ever the sorrowing sea-bird has wept ; With many a shell, in whose hollow-wreathed chamber, We, Peris of Ocean, by moonlight have slept.
Página 34 - ... constituting what are called the falls ; the same river, at the lower end of the town, bending at right angles to the south, and winding reluctantly off for many miles in that direction ! its polished surface caught here...
Página 167 - What though we wade in wealth, or soar in fame ? Earth's highest station ends in, " Here he lies," And " Dust to dust
Página 119 - IF THAT HIGH WORLD. IP that high world, which lies beyond Our own, surviving Love endears ; If there the cherish'd heart be fond, The eye the same, except in tears...

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