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Стр. 109 - When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee. As the long train Of ages glide away, the sons of men, The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes In the full strength of years — matron, and maid, And the sweet babe, and the gray-headed m'an, — Shall one by one be gathered to thy side By those, who in their turn shall follow...
Стр. 45 - They climb up into my turret O'er the arms and back of my chair; If I try to escape, they surround me; They seem to be everywhere.
Стр. 173 - Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, And instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle tree: And it shall be to the Lord for a name, For an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.
Стр. 108 - The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings...
Стр. 88 - No matter how coldly The rough river ran — Over the brink of it, Picture it — think of it, Dissolute Man! Lave in it, drink of it, Then, if you can ! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; Fashion'd so slenderly, Young, and so fair!
Стр. 24 - The king is come to marshal us, in all his armor drest, And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest. He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye ; He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stern and high. Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing to wing, Down all our line, in deafening shout,
Стр. 172 - Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat ; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread ? and your labour for that which satisfieth not? hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness.
Стр. 164 - I go, and it is done : the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.
Стр. 86 - Drips from her clothing ; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. — Touch her not scornfully ; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, All that remains of her Now is pure womanly. Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny Rash and undutiful : Past all dishonor, Death has left on her Only the beautiful. Still, for all slips of hers, One of Eve's family — Wipe those poor lips of hers Oozing so clammily. Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses...