Fisher's drawing room scrap-book, with poetical illustrations by L.E.L. [and others].

Forside
Letitia Elizabeth Landon
 

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Populære avsnitt

Side 10 - And he blessed Joseph, and said, God, before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac did walk, the God which fed me all my life long unto this day, the Angel which redeemed me from all evil, bless the lads...
Side 10 - Harp of my country ! in darkness I found thee, The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long, When proudly, my own Island Harp ! I unbound thee, And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song...
Side 71 - How much deeper power seemed to lie coiled up, as it were, in the recesses of her mind, than was ever manifested to the world in her writings ! Strange and sad does it seem that only the broken music of such a spirit should have been given to the earth — the full and finished harmony never drawn forth.
Side 10 - Israel's right hand, and brought them near unto him. And Israel stretched out his right hand, and laid it upon Ephraim's head, who was the younger, and his left hand upon Manasseh's head, guiding his hands wittingly; for Manasseh was the firstborn.
Side 5 - I DARE not look upon that face, My bark is in the bay, Too much already its soft grace Has won from me delay. A few short hours, and I must gaze On those sad eyes no more, A dream will seem the pleasant days , Past on this lonely shore. I love thee not — my heart has cast Its inward life away ; The many memories of the past Leave little for to-day, Thou art to me a thing apart From passion, hope, or fear ; Yet 't is a pleasure to my heart To know thou art so dear. It shows me I have something left...
Side 56 - But it burnt not till it gave All it had to yield of spoil : Should not brave soldadoes have Some rewarding for their toil ? What the villain sons of trade Earned by years of toil and care, Prostrate at our bidding laid, By one moment won, was there.
Side 10 - Fame on thy slumbers, Till touch'd by some hand less unworthy than mine ; If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover, Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone ; I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over, And all the wild sweetness I wak'd was thy own.
Side 6 - For thou dost need such quiet home As might befit the dove Where green leaves droop, and soft winds come, Where peace attends on love. I doubt if I shall gaze again Upon that tranquil brow ; I turn to yonder glittering main, Impatient for my prow ; Battle and revel, feast and fight, Spread o'er life's troubled sea : Then where will be the calm delight That here entranceth me ? When other names that are as sweet, Perhaps have been more dear, Shall make gay midnight moments fleet Unlike the midnights...
Side 34 - We here found ourselves in a region of ice ; and when moonlight came and lit up the scene, we were charmed by the novel effect produced by the floods of molten silver which shed their soft radiance over the snow. Moonlight, ever beautiful, amid these snowy masses assumes a new and more exquisite charm. The rugged peaks, stern and chilling as they are, lose their awful character, and become brilliant as polished pearl ; the trees, covered with icicles, seem formed of some rich spar, and the face of...

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