The Poetical Works of William Drummond of HawthorndenJ. R. Smith, 1856 - 346 ページ |
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Anglo-Saxon arms beams beauty behold blest bliss blood blushing breath bright bring British Museum burn cloth crown crystal dear death delight dost doth Drummond earth Edinburgh Edition eternal eyes face fair fame fear flames floods flowers glory gold golden grace grief hair happy hast hath heart heaven heavenly hell honour Idmon J. O. Halliwell John Yonge Akerman King kiss light live locks look MADRIGAL Mark Antony mind moon mortal mountains mourn Muses ne'er never night nought nymphs original price Paraclete Phaëton Phoebus pity plain Post 8vo praise Prince printed quiristers rays rose RUSSELL SMITH sacred shades shadow Shakespeare shalt shepherd shine sighs sight sing Sith skies SOHO SQUARE songs SONNET soul spring stars strange streams sweet tears thee Thetis thine throne tomb triumphing bands turn turn'd unto virgin virtue weep whilst WILLIAM DRUMMOND wonder woods
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7 ページ - Silence' child, sweet father of soft rest, Prince, whose approach peace to all mortals brings, Indifferent host to shepherds and to kings...
145 ページ - Baptist. The last and greatest herald of heaven's King, Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild, Among that savage brood the woods forth bring, Which he than man more harmless found and mild ; His food was locusts, and what young doth spring, With honey that from virgin hives distill'd ; Parch'd body, hollow eyes, some uncouth thing Made him appear long since from earth exil'd.
52 ページ - This Life, which seems so fair, Is like a bubble blown up in the air By sporting children's breath, Who chase it everywhere And strive who can most motion it bequeath. And though it sometimes...
58 ページ - Which used in such harmonious strains to flow, Is reft from earth to tune those spheres above, What art thou but a harbinger of woe? Thy pleasing notes, be pleasing notes no more, But orphan wailings to the fainting ear, Each stop a sigh, each sound draws forth a tear.
144 ページ - Amidst heaven's rolling heights this earth who stayed. In a poor cottage inned, a virgin maid A weakling did him bear, who all upbears : There is he poorly swaddled, in manger laid, To whom too narrow swaddlings are our spheres : Run, shepherds, run, and solemnize his birth, This is that night — no, day, grown great with bliss, In which the power of Satan broken is ; In heaven be glory, peace unto the earth ! Thus singing, through the air the angels swam, And cope of stars re-echoed the same.
58 ページ - Voice which did thy sounds approve Which wont in such harmonious strains to flow, Is reft from Earth to tune those spheres above, What art thou but a harbinger of woe? Thy pleasing notes be pleasing notes no more, But orphans...