Selections in poetry, Том 51

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1863 - Всего страниц: 176
 

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Стр. 73 - Who God doth late and early pray More of his grace than gifts to lend ; And entertains the harmless day With a well-chosen book or friend ; — This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise, or fear to fall ; Lord of himself, though not of lands ; And having nothing, yet hath all.
Стр. 46 - THE boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but him had fled; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm — A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though childlike form.
Стр. 118 - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; And the bridemaidens whispered, "Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.
Стр. 172 - Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us; 'Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man.
Стр. 139 - Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk The earth, and stately tread or lowly creep; Witness if I be silent, morn or even, To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade, Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. Hail, universal lord, be bounteous still To give us only good ; and if the night Have gather'd aught of evil or conceal'd, Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark...
Стр. 26 - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow...
Стр. 54 - But hark! — that heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat; And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! Arm! Arm! it is — it is — the cannon's opening roar! Within a windowed niche of that high hall Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain; he did hear That sound the first amidst the festival, And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear...
Стр. 150 - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn...
Стр. 138 - Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
Стр. 172 - The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years, But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, Unhurt amidst the war of elements, The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.

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