Evenings with the poets and sketches of their favourite scenes, by the author of 'Success in life'.1860 |
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86 ページ
Evenings. For you have but mistook me all this while : I live with bread like you , feel want , taste grief , Need friends : subjected thus , How can you say to me I am a king ! APOSTROPHE TO SLEEP . Sleep , gentle sleep , Nature's soft ...
Evenings. For you have but mistook me all this while : I live with bread like you , feel want , taste grief , Need friends : subjected thus , How can you say to me I am a king ! APOSTROPHE TO SLEEP . Sleep , gentle sleep , Nature's soft ...
86 ページ
Evenings. For you have but mistook me all this while : I live with bread like you , feel want , taste grief , Need friends : subjected thus , How can you say to me I am a king ! APOSTROPHE TO SLEEP . Sleep , gentle sleep , Nature's soft ...
Evenings. For you have but mistook me all this while : I live with bread like you , feel want , taste grief , Need friends : subjected thus , How can you say to me I am a king ! APOSTROPHE TO SLEEP . Sleep , gentle sleep , Nature's soft ...
91 ページ
... live , or stay and die . Jul . Yon light is not daylight , I know it , I : It is some meteor that the sun exhales , To be to thee this night a torch - bearer , And light thee on the way to Mantua ; Therefore stay , yet , thou need'st ...
... live , or stay and die . Jul . Yon light is not daylight , I know it , I : It is some meteor that the sun exhales , To be to thee this night a torch - bearer , And light thee on the way to Mantua ; Therefore stay , yet , thou need'st ...
94 ページ
... doth lie As much beauty as could die ; Which in life did harbour give To more virtue than doth live . If at all she had a fault , Leave it buried in the vault . One name was Elizabeth , The other let it sleep 94 EVENINGS WITH THE POETS .
... doth lie As much beauty as could die ; Which in life did harbour give To more virtue than doth live . If at all she had a fault , Leave it buried in the vault . One name was Elizabeth , The other let it sleep 94 EVENINGS WITH THE POETS .
97 ページ
... live for this ? ah ! did I love ? And was't for this ( fierce powers ) she did excel— That ere she well the sweets of life did prove , She should ( too dear a guest ) with darkness dwell ! Weak influence of heaven ! what fair is wrought ...
... live for this ? ah ! did I love ? And was't for this ( fierce powers ) she did excel— That ere she well the sweets of life did prove , She should ( too dear a guest ) with darkness dwell ! Weak influence of heaven ! what fair is wrought ...
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appear beauty breath bright close dark death deep delight Derley died doth dream early ears earth English eyes face fair father feel forget give grave Hall hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hope Howard human John kind King lady laid land leaves length less light live look Manor means mind morning mother mourn nature never night o'er once party pass pleasure poet poetic powers Queen received rest rise round scene seemed seen shine side sleep smiles soft song soon sorrow soul sounds spirit subjects sweet tears tell tender thee things thou thought took tree turn voice watch whole wild wind young youth
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303 ページ - SEVEN. -A SIMPLE child That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage Girl: She was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad ; Her eyes were fair, and very fair; •*—Her beauty made me glad. 22 " Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?" " How many ? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.
125 ページ - Seasons return ; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and, for the book of knowledge fair, Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works, to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
309 ページ - The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose, The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare, Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath pass'd away a glory from the earth.
87 ページ - True, I talk of dreams ; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy ; Which is as thin of substance as the air ; And more inconstant than the wind...
85 ページ - Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid : Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut, Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub, Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers...
209 ページ - When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore. 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's gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer.
318 ページ - Thou's met me in an evil hour; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem : To spare thee now is past my pow'r, Thou bonnie gem. Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, The bonnie Lark, companion meet ! Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet ! Wi' spreckl'd breast, When upward-springing, blythe, to greet The purpling east.
128 ページ - They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand ; the gate With dreadful faces throng'd and fiery arms. Some natural tears they dropp'd, but wiped them soon ; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.
84 ページ - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge...
84 ページ - How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep ! O Sleep, O gentle Sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down. And steep my senses in forgetfulness ! Why, rather, Sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber ; Than in the perfumed chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state, And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody...