The Poems, Sacred, Passionate, and Humorous, of Nathaniel Parker WillisClark & Austin, 1846 - 331 ページ |
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145 ページ
... ISIDORE . The features are all fair , sir , but so cold- I could not love such beauty ! LORD IVON . Yet , e'en so Look'd thy lost mother , Isidore ! Her brow Lofty like this - her lips thus delicate , Yet icy cold in their slight ...
... ISIDORE . The features are all fair , sir , but so cold- I could not love such beauty ! LORD IVON . Yet , e'en so Look'd thy lost mother , Isidore ! Her brow Lofty like this - her lips thus delicate , Yet icy cold in their slight ...
146 ページ
... ISIDORE . Hang I not ever on thy lips , dear father ? LORD IVON . As thou didst enter , I was musing here Upon this picture . ' Tis the face of one I never knew ; but , for its glorious pride , I bought it of the painter . There has ...
... ISIDORE . Hang I not ever on thy lips , dear father ? LORD IVON . As thou didst enter , I was musing here Upon this picture . ' Tis the face of one I never knew ; but , for its glorious pride , I bought it of the painter . There has ...
147 ページ
... Isidore ! The gem That sparkles in your hair imprisons light Drunk in the flaming Orient ; and gold Waits on the bidding of those girlish lips In measure that Aladdin never knew . Yet was I - lowly born ! ISIDORE . Lord Ivon ! LORD IVON ...
... Isidore ! The gem That sparkles in your hair imprisons light Drunk in the flaming Orient ; and gold Waits on the bidding of those girlish lips In measure that Aladdin never knew . Yet was I - lowly born ! ISIDORE . Lord Ivon ! LORD IVON ...
148 ページ
... ISIDORE . Loved he the lady , sir ? LORD IVON . So ran the tale . How well I do remember it ! Poor youth ! ISIDORE . Alas ! LORD IVON . I never thought to pity him . The bride was a duke's sister ; and I mused Upon the wonder of his ...
... ISIDORE . Loved he the lady , sir ? LORD IVON . So ran the tale . How well I do remember it ! Poor youth ! ISIDORE . Alas ! LORD IVON . I never thought to pity him . The bride was a duke's sister ; and I mused Upon the wonder of his ...
149 ページ
... ISIDORE . Our own ! and you A minstrel boy ! LORD IVON . Yes I had wander'd far Since I shook off my sickness in the hills , And , with some cunning on the lute , had learn'd A subtler lesson than humility In the quick school of want ...
... ISIDORE . Our own ! and you A minstrel boy ! LORD IVON . Yes I had wander'd far Since I shook off my sickness in the hills , And , with some cunning on the lute , had learn'd A subtler lesson than humility In the quick school of want ...
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Absalom angels beautiful beneath bird bosom breast breath bright Broadway broken brow calm cheek CHEMISETTE child cloud cold dark dear death dream dream Angelic earth face fair feel feet fire flowers flung forehead fountain gather'd gazed gentle glory hair hand hath hear heart heaven Helon hour hung ISIDORE Jules knew Lady Jane leaves lifted light lips living look look'd LORD IVON loveliness lyre minstrel boy morn mother Mount Arafat mused night o'er pass'd pity Pleiades poet pray pray'd prayer press'd pride pulses Rizpah rose seem'd shadows silent silver sleep slept smile soft soft eye soul spirit star stirr'd stole stood sweet sweet child tears thee-I thought thine thing thou hast thought of thee touch'd trees turn'd Twas voice walk'd waters weary whisper wild wind wings woman Yale College young
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31 ページ - The king stood still Till the last echo died ; then, throwing off The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back The pall from the still features of his child, He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth In the resistless eloquence of woe...
32 ページ - And oh ! when I am stricken, and my heart, Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, How will its love for thee, as I depart, Yearn for thine ear to drink its last deep token ! It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom, To see thee, Absalom...
30 ページ - But, oh! for Absalom — For his estranged, misguided Absalom — The proud, bright being, who had burst away, In all his princely beauty, to defy The heart that cherished him — for him he poured, In agony that would not be controlled, Strong supplication, and forgave him there, Before his God, for his deep sinfulness.
107 ページ - How like a mounting devil in the heart Rules the unreined ambition ! Let it once But play the monarch, and its haughty brow Glows with a beauty that bewilders thought And unthrones peace forever. Putting on The very pomp of Lucifer, it turns The heart to ashes...
88 ページ - I love to see him track the street, With his wary eye and active feet; And I often watch him as he springs, Circling the steeple with easy wings, Till across the dial his shade has passed, And the belfry edge is gained at last.
9 ページ - And pass not thou between The weary traveller and the cooling breeze, And lie not down to sleep beneath the trees Where human tracks are seen; Nor milk the goat that browseth on the plain, Nor pluck the standing corn, or yellow grain. And now depart! and when Thy heart is heavy, and...
106 ページ - Ay, though it bid me rifle My heart's last fount for its insatiate thirst — Though every life-strung nerve be maddened first, Though it should bid me stifle The yearning in my throat for my sweet child, And taunt its mother till my brain went wild — " All— I would do it all Sooner than die like a dull worm, to rot, Thrust foully into earth to be forgot, Oh heavens ! But I appal Your heart, old man : forgive.
217 ページ - BRIGHT be the skies that cover thee, Child of the sunny brow — Bright as the dream flung over thee By all that meets thee now. Thy heart is beating joyously, Thy voice is like a bird's, And sweetly breaks the melody Of thy imperfect words. I know no fount that gushes out As gladly as thy tiny shout. I would that thou might'st ever be As beautiful as now, — That Time might ever leave as free Thy yet unwritten brow, — I would life were
105 ページ - So — let him writhe! How long Will he live thus? Quick, my good pencil, now! What a fine agony works upon his brow! Ha! gray-haired, and so strong! How fearfully he stifles that short moan ! Gods! if I could but paint a dying groan! — "'Pity
188 ページ - The shadows lay along Broadway, 'Twas near the twilight-tide — And slowly there a lady fair Was walking in her pride. Alone walked she ; but, viewlessly, Walked spirits at her side. Peace charmed the street beneath her feet, And Honor charmed the air ; And all astir looked kind on her, And called her good as fair — For all God ever gave to her She kept with chary care. She kept with care her beauties rare From lovers...