The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive Poetry, Volym 2Alaric Alexander Watts Hurst, Chance, and Company, 1829 |
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Sida 14
... as the evening skies of June ! Thus thus to fade like thee , ― With heavenly FAITH'S Soul - cheering ray To gild with glory my decay ! Literary Souvenir . THE VILLAGE DISPENSARY . THE hour is come , the 14 THE POETICAL ALBUM .
... as the evening skies of June ! Thus thus to fade like thee , ― With heavenly FAITH'S Soul - cheering ray To gild with glory my decay ! Literary Souvenir . THE VILLAGE DISPENSARY . THE hour is come , the 14 THE POETICAL ALBUM .
Sida 23
... - fortune's still the Musgrave's thrall ; Hail to his vantage in the fight ! All hail the LUCK OF EDEN - HALL ! Literary Souvenir . Mostrommi Pombra d'una breve notte Allora quel che'l lungo corso THE POETICAL ALBUM . 23.
... - fortune's still the Musgrave's thrall ; Hail to his vantage in the fight ! All hail the LUCK OF EDEN - HALL ! Literary Souvenir . Mostrommi Pombra d'una breve notte Allora quel che'l lungo corso THE POETICAL ALBUM . 23.
Sida 41
... Souvenir . THE FAIR REAPER . BY R. P. GILLIES , ESQ . SHE scarcely seemed of mortal birth , But like a visionary form , That came to bless our lowly earth ; - Unmindful of the storm , She stood , and oft her golden hair Did float in the ...
... Souvenir . THE FAIR REAPER . BY R. P. GILLIES , ESQ . SHE scarcely seemed of mortal birth , But like a visionary form , That came to bless our lowly earth ; - Unmindful of the storm , She stood , and oft her golden hair Did float in the ...
Sida 45
... Souvenir . SNOWDON . BY THE REV . C. HOYLE . LORD of the dreary Avon , rear sublime Thy cloud - encircled head , where late I hung In rapture , while the legendary chime Of viewless harps from every valley rung ; Peopling that ...
... Souvenir . SNOWDON . BY THE REV . C. HOYLE . LORD of the dreary Avon , rear sublime Thy cloud - encircled head , where late I hung In rapture , while the legendary chime Of viewless harps from every valley rung ; Peopling that ...
Sida 56
... , The hand of blood , the tongue on fire of hell , — Retire - and leave me to myself and heaven ! Literary Souvenir . THE RETURN OF FRANCIS THE FIRST FROM CAPTIVITY . BY 56 THE POETICAL ALBUM . Dovedale By the Rev Charles Hoyle ཁྐྲཧྨ.
... , The hand of blood , the tongue on fire of hell , — Retire - and leave me to myself and heaven ! Literary Souvenir . THE RETURN OF FRANCIS THE FIRST FROM CAPTIVITY . BY 56 THE POETICAL ALBUM . Dovedale By the Rev Charles Hoyle ཁྐྲཧྨ.
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The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive Poetry, Volym 2 Alaric Alexander Watts Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1829 |
The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive Poetry, Volym 2 Alaric Alexander Watts Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1829 |
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abbot art thou beauty beneath Blackwood's Magazine blest bloom blue bosom bower breast breath breeze bright brow calm charms cheek clouds cold Congreve rockets coursers dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth fading fair fairy fear flowers gaze gentle gleam glow Godiva gondolier grave green grief Harebells hath heard heart heaven hope hour immortal Song JAMES HOGG JOHN MOULTRIE land life's light lips Literary Gazette Literary Souvenir lonely look LORD BYRON mirth morn muse ne'er never night o'er pale prayer rock rose round scene shade shine shore sigh silent silent empire skies sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit star star by star stream sweet tears thee thine THOMAS DOUBLEDAY thou art thou hast thou wert thought tomb tree voice wandering wave weep wild wind wings young youth
Populära avsnitt
Sida 223 - Beyond the flight of time, Beyond this vale of death, There surely is some blessed clime, Where life is not a breath ; Nor life's affections transient fire, Whose sparks fly upward...
Sida 89 - All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair — The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing — And Winter slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring! And I the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Sida 30 - ETHEREAL minstrel! pilgrim of the sky ! Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound ? Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground ? Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will, Those quivering wings composed, that music still!
Sida 208 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Sida 336 - The time would e'er be o'er, And I on thee should look my last, And thou shouldst smile no more! And still upon that face I look, And think 'twill smile again; And still the thought I will not brook, That I must look in vain. But when I speak — thou dost not say What thou ne'er left'st...
Sida 221 - To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Sida 155 - ALL worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, The Sun himself must die, Before this mortal shall assume Its immortality ! I saw a vision in my sleep, That gave my spirit strength to sweep Adown the gulf of Time ! I...
Sida 221 - Who hath not seen Thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor...
Sida 156 - Go, let oblivion's curtain fall Upon the stage of men. Nor with thy rising beams recall Life's tragedy again: Its piteous pageants bring not back, Nor waken flesh, upon the rack Of pain anew to writhe; Stretched in disease's shapes abhorred, Or mown in battle by the sword, Like grass beneath the scythe.
Sida 96 - I remember, I remember Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing...