Miscellaneous PoemsWilliam Benbow, 1826 - 144 ページ |
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ANTISTROPHE Apennine art thou azure beams beauty birds blood and gold blue bosom bowers boy In winter brain breath bright calm caves chasm city of death clouds cold cradle dark dead dear death deep delight divine doth dread dream earth EPODE eyes faint fear fled fleeting river flowers forest gaze gentle Ginevra gleams glory grass green grey grief hail hair heart heaven interfused kiss leaves light lips live love waves Mont Blanc moon morning motion mountains Naples never night o'er ocean odour pale pine Pisa rain rocks round sail SERCHIO shadow silent sleep smile snow soft song sorrow sound SPEAKER spirit stars storm stream swift tears tempest thee thine things thou art thought Tmolus tyger vale veil violets voice wake wandering water's love waters waves weep wept Whilst wild wind wings winter woods wreck
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129 ページ - Keen as are the arrows Of that silver sphere, Whose intense lamp narrows In the white dawn clear, Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there. All the earth and air With thy voice is loud, As, when night is bare, From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflowed.
131 ページ - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground...
2 ページ - THE fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one spirit meet and mingle. Why not I with thine?
39 ページ - Death will come when thou art dead, Soon, too soon — Sleep will come when thou art fled; Of neither would I ask the boon I ask of thee, beloved Night— Swift be thine approaching flight, Come soon, soon!
10 ページ - One word is too often profaned For me to profane it ; One feeling too falsely disdained For thee to disdain it ; One hope is too like despair For prudence to smother ; And pity from thee more dear Than that from another. I can give not what men call love : But wilt thou accept not The worship the heart lifts above, And the Heavens reject not : The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow?' (1821.) LAST CHORUS OF
129 ページ - Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...
50 ページ - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear...
130 ページ - Teach us, sprite or bird, What sweet thoughts are thine! I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
90 ページ - THE everlasting universe of things Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves. Now dark — now glittering — now reflecting gloom — Now lending splendour, where from secret springs The source of human thought its tribute brings Of waters, — with a sound but half its own...
130 ページ - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be ; Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee: Thou lovest ; but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.