The Harp of the Wilderness; Or, Flowers of Modern Fugitive Poetry ...Simpkin, Marshall, & Company, 1836 |
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Side 28
... the birds ; And of loitering lovers ' words : And the brooks that , as they go , Seem to think aloud , yet low ; And the voice of early heat , Where the mirth - spun insects meet ; " And the very colour's tone , Russet now , 28 THE HARP OF.
... the birds ; And of loitering lovers ' words : And the brooks that , as they go , Seem to think aloud , yet low ; And the voice of early heat , Where the mirth - spun insects meet ; " And the very colour's tone , Russet now , 28 THE HARP OF.
Side 61
... Meet fortune's keenest dart ; Then look on all thou lov'd from youth , and patiently depart ! ' Twas so in vain I sought thee Within my garden - bower ; And from the fields I brought thee , Pale Autumn's faithful flower . Spring flowers ...
... Meet fortune's keenest dart ; Then look on all thou lov'd from youth , and patiently depart ! ' Twas so in vain I sought thee Within my garden - bower ; And from the fields I brought thee , Pale Autumn's faithful flower . Spring flowers ...
Side 80
... meet in strife . The earth hath nought of this ; nor chance nor change Ruffles its surface , and no spirits dare Give answer to the tempest - woken air ; But o'er its wastes , the weakly tenants range At will , and wound his bosom as ...
... meet in strife . The earth hath nought of this ; nor chance nor change Ruffles its surface , and no spirits dare Give answer to the tempest - woken air ; But o'er its wastes , the weakly tenants range At will , and wound his bosom as ...
Side 81
... meet the hand that writ it ; line nor lead Hath ever fathom'd thy profoundest deeps , Where haply the huge monster swells and sleeps , King of his watery limit , who ' tis said Can move the mighty ocean into storm.— Oh ! wonderful thou ...
... meet the hand that writ it ; line nor lead Hath ever fathom'd thy profoundest deeps , Where haply the huge monster swells and sleeps , King of his watery limit , who ' tis said Can move the mighty ocean into storm.— Oh ! wonderful thou ...
Side 89
... from the skies , As nature's fierce son in the wilderness dies . High life of a hunter ! he meets on the hill The new - waken'd daylight , so bright and so still ; And feels , as the clouds of the morning unroll THE WILDERNESS . 89.
... from the skies , As nature's fierce son in the wilderness dies . High life of a hunter ! he meets on the hill The new - waken'd daylight , so bright and so still ; And feels , as the clouds of the morning unroll THE WILDERNESS . 89.
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
art thou BARRY CORNWALL beauty beneath bird blessed bliss bloom blue bower breast breath breeze bright brow cheek CHELMSFORD child cloud dark dead death deep dost dream E'en earth faded faded thing fair fame fancy crown farewell fled flowers gaze gentle glad gleaming gloom glory glow gone grave green grief happy HARP hath hear heard heart heaven Helvellyn HEMANS hope hour L. E. LANDON leaf leaves life's light lips lone look lute lyre Magdalene MARY HOWITT mirth morn mother mountain never night o'er pale repose rest rose round S. T. COLERIDGE shade sigh silent sings skies sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit spring star storm stream summer sweet tears tell tempest thee thine thou art thought thy dreams tree Twas voice wakeful eye wallflower wandering wave weep wild wind wings young youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 70 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Side 106 - Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth ; And constancy lives in realms above ; And life is thorny ; and youth is vain ; And to be wroth with one we love, Doth work like madness in the brain.
Side 185 - Fill'd with the face of heaven, which, from afar, Comes down upon the waters ; all its hues, From the rich sunset to the rising star, Their magical variety diffuse : And now they change ; a paler shadow strews Its mantle o'er the mountains ; parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till — 'tis gone — and all is gray.
Side 170 - 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 childlike form.
Side 36 - SPIRIT that breathest through my lattice, thou That cool'st the twilight of the sultry day, Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow : Thou hast been out upon the deep at play, Riding all day the wild blue waves till now. Roughening their crests, and scattering high their spray And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee To the scorched land, thou wanderer of the sea!
Side 172 - And — but for that sad shrouded eye, That fires not, wins not, weeps not now, And but for that chill changeless brow, Where cold Obstruction's apathy Appals the gazing mourner's heart, As if to him it could impart The doom he dreads, yet dwells upon...
Side 180 - Again! again! again! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back; Their shots along the deep slowly boom: Then ceased — and all is wail, As they strike the shattered sail; Or in conflagration pale Light the gloom.
Side 36 - God's blessing breathed upon the fainting earth ! Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest, Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse The wide old wood from his majestic rest, Summoning from the innumerable boughs The strange, deep harmonies that haunt his breast...
Side 142 - Leave to the nightingale her shady wood; A privacy of glorious light is thine; Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with instinct more divine; Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and home!
Side 181 - Waken, lords and ladies gay, On the mountain dawns the day ; All the jolly chase is here, With hawk and horse and hunting-spear; Hounds are in their couples yelling. Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, Merrily merrily mingle they: Waken, lords and ladies gay...