PoemsE. Morgan & Company, 1856 - 212 sidor |
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amid APOSTROPHE Awake and sing beautiful birds blest Bonnie Doon breast breath bridal bright Bright land brow canst CAPTIVE QUEEN cheek child crimson Glories dark dear dearest death deep didst dost dream e'en earth eyes faded fair fair brow faithless FAREWELL flowers fond fondly foreign bands friends gazed gentle gift grave grief happy heart holy hopes hour INDIAN'S BRIDE LAMENT FOR NATHANIEL land linger lone look MISSISSIPPI mother mournful murmured NATHANIEL M'LAIN ne'er neath never night o'er pale prayer pride proud QUEEN VICTORIA rays REPLY TO BYRONA roam round RUSTIC MAIDEN scene SCOTLAND seek shade shore shrine SICK CHILD'S LAMENT SISTER sleep smile snowy whiteness soft song sorrow sought soul spirit stood stranger sunny brow sweet sweet violets tears tell tender thee thine thou art thou hast thought tones Twas unto violets voice wild withered woman's words
Populära avsnitt
Sida 86 - Can this be death ? there's bloom upon her cheek ; But now I see it is no living hue, But a strange hectic — like the unnatural red Which Autumn plants upon the perish'd leaf.
Sida 175 - VIOLETS ! — deep-blue violets ! April's loveliest coronets ! There are no flowers grow in the vale, Kissed by the dew, wooed by the gale,— None by the dew of the twilight Wet, So sweet as the deep-blue violet...
Sida 154 - Go, ring the bells and fire the guns. And fling the starry banner out ; Shout
Sida 37 - I'm the sov'reign of Scotland, And mony a traitor there, Yet here I lie in foreign bands, And never-ending care. But as for thee, thou false woman, My sister and my fae, Grim vengeance, yet, shall whet a sword That...
Sida 106 - O death ! the poor man's dearest friend. The kindest and the best ! Welcome the hour my aged limbs Are laid with thee at rest ! The great, the wealthy, fear thy blow, From pomp and pleasure torn ; But, Oh ! a blest relief to those That weary-laden mourn ! A PRAYER, IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH.
Sida 28 - As silent and slow they followed the dead. The riderless horse was led in the rear, There were white plumes waving over the bier ; Helmet and sword were laid on the pall For it was a soldier's funeral. That soldier had stood on the battle-plain, Where every step was over the slain : But the brand and the ball had passed him by, And he came to his native land to die.
Sida 76 - No blood-stain'd victory, in story bright, Can give the philosophic mind delight ; No triumph please, while rage and death destroy : Reflection sickens at the monstrous joy. And where the joy, if rightly understood, Like cheerful praise for universal good ? The soul nor check nor doubtful anguish knows, But free and pure the grateful current flows.
Sida 32 - She turn'd — and her mother's gaze brought back Each hue of her childhood's faded track. Oh ! hush the song, and let her tears Flow to the dream of her early years ! Holy and pure are the drops that fall When the young bride goes from her father's hall; She goes unto love yet untried and new, She parts from love which hath still been true...
Sida 83 - The fragrant birch, above him, hung Her tassels in the sky; And many a vernal blossom sprung, And nodded careless by.
Sida 90 - Bonaparte, behold that bright star ; it is mine ! and remember, to mine — not thine — has sovereignty been promised. Separate, then, our fates, and your star fades." NAT, bid me not depart from thee! Thou hast not said the word ; Or it is all forgotten now, Or else not rightly heard. Speak quickly ! tell me 't is not so I I have not heard aright!