The Fair Island: A Poem, in Six CantosF.&J. Rivington, 1851 - 204 sidor |
Andra upplagor - Visa alla
Vanliga ord och fraser
Aonia bathed beam beamy beauty Bembridge Beneath billows bird blue blue air BONCHURCH bough bower Brading breast breath bright brooding brow calm CANTO Carisbrook Castalian spring cave cliff climb crested hill crown'd dale dark deep dewy divine dream dwell earth elms FAIR ISLAND fiery flood flower fruit gleam glebe glen glide glow golden green grey grove hang hath haunts heart heaven height hill hoary hollow hope lake Copais land light lofty look'd mortal mortal vision mountain murmur night o'er pain pale pensive promontory purple purple clover Quarr abbey rapt ridge rill ripple river rock roll'd rolling rose round sea fowl shade shadow sheen shore sleep smooth starry stars steep stone stony stream sublime thou thro thunder tide tower tree vale verdure vermil vernal voice wandering waters wave wild wind wing wood Woolverton Yarbridge Yaverland yellow
Populära avsnitt
Sida 68 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Sida 84 - What mortal eye can fix'd behold? Who stalks his round, an hideous form, Howling amidst the midnight storm ; Or throws him on the ridgy steep Of some loose hanging rock to sleep...
Sida 98 - Tinted by time, the solitary stone On the green hill of Mote each storm withstood, Grows dim with hoary lichen overgrown.
Sida 42 - Gone in a moment ! hurried headlong down From light and hope to darkness and despair ! Plunged into utter night without renown ! Bereft of all, — home, country, earth, and air, — Without a warning, yea, without a prayer ! So swiftly round them did the waters sweep, The strangling waters never known to spare ! Peace be their portion ! undisturb'd their sleep Beside the murmuring main, or down the channel'd deep * ! 1 " When Kempenfelt went down, With twice four hundred men.
Sida 7 - It is surrounded by fragments' of rock, chalkcliffs, and steep banks of broken earth. Shut out from human intercourse and dwellings, it seems formed for retirement and contemplation. On one of these rocks I unexpectedly observed a man sitting with a book, which he was reading. The place was near two hundred yards perpendicularly below me, but I soon discovered by his dress, and by the black colour of his features, contrasted with the white rocks beside him, that it was no other than my negro disciple,...
Sida 149 - ... the calm haven of an equal mind, Content in quietude to live and die, Dwell unreproved and build your hope on high ! Who, when the powers of storm and darkness smite The deep, and shadows overcast the sky, Draw from the dreamy caves of sound and sight Voices of dulcet tone and visions of delight ! " Fortunate ye ! who those fine cells employ To treasure duly all this earth displays Of beauty, and of bounty, and of joy; Who to the Giver of all good upraise The homage of the heart, continual praise...
Sida 110 - Bernini's bust was destroyed when the palace of Whitehall was burned in 1697. Very different was the King's appearance in 1648 from what it had been eleven years ago, when that picture was painted in the thirty-seventh year of his age. ' Wild as a wave his beard in silver stream'd — His long thin locks dishevell'd hung in air, With many winters he familiar seem'd, But few had numbcr'd ; such a spell hath care The cheek to channel, and to change the hair!
Sida 65 - Here mused the sullen mind, and o'er the deep Cast how in blood the scepter'd hand to steep.
Sida 197 - ... freely what it now so justly rues. Me miserable ! — which way shall I fly Infinite wrath and infinite despair? Which way I fly is hell ; myself am hell ; And in the lowest deep a lower deep Still threatening to devour me opens wide ; To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven. 0, then at last relent ; is there no place Left for repentance, none for pardon left I None left but by submission ; and that word Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame Among the spirits beneath, whom I seduced With...
Sida 81 - How wildly plaintive, while the sun aslant Plays on her plumage 'twixt the sky and sea, The wheeling gull ! and hark ! the cormorant Chiding a legion ranged in due degree, With dank wing o'er the ledge to dangle free, Haggard, green-eyed, and hungry as the grave ! Shoots the swart Osprey down with headlong glee To where the diver and the puffin brave The billow, now ingulf