Sibylline Verses: Or the Mirror of Fate

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A. Tompkins, 1846 - 216 sider
 

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Side 90 - Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth, In thy heart the dew of youth, On thy lips the smile of truth. O, that dew, like balm, shall steal Into wounds, that cannot heal, Even as sleep our eyes doth seal ; And that smile, like sunshine, dart Into many a sunless heart, For a smile of God thou art.
Side 76 - Chosen thou hast ; and they that overween, And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen, No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth. Thy care is fix'd, and zealously attends To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light, And hope that reaps not shame.
Side 76 - Athenian walls from ruin bare. IX. TO A VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY. LADY, that in the prime of earliest youth Wisely hast shunned the broad way and the green, And with those few art eminently seen, That labour up the hill of heavenly truth, The better part with Mary and with Ruth Chosen thou hast ; and they that overween, And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen, No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth.
Side 90 - MAIDEN ! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies Like the dusk in evening skies ! Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Golden tresses, wreathed in one, As the braided streamlets run ! Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet...
Side 8 - Poor indeed thou must be, if around thee Thou no ray of light and joy canst throw ; If no silken cord of love hath bound thee To some little world through weal...
Side 53 - Now wrapp'd in some mysterious dream, A lone philosopher you seem ; Now quick from hill to vale you fly, And now you sweep the vaulted sky ; A shepherd next, you haunt the plain, And warble forth your oaten strain ; A lover now, with all the grace Of that sweet passion in your face...
Side 159 - h alt see the beacon bright ; For never, till shining on thy shroud, Can be quenched its holy light.
Side 81 - For the high ones and powerful shall come To do you reverence ; and the beautiful Will know the purer language of your brow. And read it like a talisman of love!
Side 66 - The world is bright before thee, Its summer flowers are thine ; Its calm blue sky is o'er thee, Thy bosom, pleasure's shrine ; And thine the sunbeam given To nature's morning hour, Pure, warm, as when from heaven It burst on Eden's bower. There is a song of sorrow, The death-dirge of the gay, That tells, ere dawn of morrow, These charms may melt away ; That sun's bright beam be shaded, That sky be blue no more, The summer flowers be faded, And youth's warm promise o'er.
Side 146 - And treading among flowers of joy Which at no season fade, Thou, while thy babes around thee cling, Shalt show us how divine a thing A Woman may be made.

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