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art thou beauty bird bless thee blue streams bosom bower breast breath breeze bright broken flower brow burning cheek Conradin dark DATURA ARBOREA dead death deep dreams dwell e'en earth fair falchion farewell Father fill'd flowers gaze glance gleam gloom glorious glory glow gone grave green harp hath heart heaven hills holy hope hour hues hush'd leaves life's light lone look'd lyre midst mighty mirth mournful night o'er pale pass'd pour'd prayer proud rich rills RIVER CLWYD Rome rose round savannas scene shade shadow shed shore shrine silent SILVIO PELLICO skies SKY LARK sleep smile soft soft eyes solemn song soul sound spirit stars strain stream sunbeam sweet swell tears thine Thou art Thou hast thought tomb tone unto Visions divine voice wake wave wert whisper wild wind worlds unknown young
124 ページ - Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came; Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame. Not as the flying come, In silence and in fear: — They shook the depths of the desert gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer.
348 ページ - Far down, and shining through their stillness lies ! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold, Won from ten thousand royal Argosies ! — Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main ; Earth claims not these again.
217 ページ - I sought — give answer, where are they ? If thou wouldst clear thy perjured soul, send life through this cold clay! " Into these glassy eyes put light — be still ! keep down thine ire, Bid these white lips a blessing speak — this earth is not my sire ! Give me back him for whom I strove, for whom my blood was shed,— Thou canst not ? — and a king ! — his dust be mountains on thy head...
185 ページ - O'er his low bed may weep. One sleeps where southern vines are drest, Above the noble slain ; He wrapt his colours round his breast On a blood-red field of Spain. And one — o'er her the myrtle showers Its leaves, by soft winds fann'd ; She faded 'midst Italian flowers — The last of that bright band.
217 ページ - Then, starting from the ground once more, he seized the monarch's rein, Amidst the pale and wildered looks of all the courtier train ; And, with a fierce, o'ermastering grasp, the rearing war-horse led, And sternly set them face to face, — the king before the dead...
160 ページ - THE boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but he had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead.
190 ページ - Their course with mast and flag is done, There slumber England's dead. The warlike of the isles, The men of field and wave ! Are not the rocks their funeral piles, The seas and shores their grave ? Go, stranger ! track the deep, Free, free the white sail spread ! Wave may not foam, nor wild wind sweep, Where rest not England's dead.
124 ページ - There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth.
390 ページ - With whose thick orchard blooms the soft winds play, Send out their inmates in a happy flow, Like a freed vernal stream. I may not tread With them those pathways — to the feverish bed Of sickness bound ; yet, O my God ! I bless Thy mercy, that with Sabbath peace hath filled My chastened heart, and all its throbbings stilled To one deep calm of lowliest thankfulness.