The remains of Henry Kirke White ...

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Стр. 201 - He bowed the heavens also, and came down : and darkness was under His feet. And He rode upon a cherub, and did fly : yea, He did fly upon the wings of the wind.
Стр. 131 - Hark ! hark ! to God the chorus breaks, From every host, from every gem ; But one alone the Saviour speaks, It is the star of Bethlehem.
Стр. 134 - Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied. That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired; Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die, that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee; How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
Стр. 343 - WITH how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What, may it be that even in heavenly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries?
Стр. 215 - Tis she ! — but why that bleeding bosom gor'd ' Why dimly gleams the visionary sword ? Oh ever beauteous, ever friendly ! tell, Is it in heaven a crime to love too well ? To bear too tender or too firm a heart, To act a Lover's or a Roman's part ? Is there no bright reversion in the sky For those...
Стр. 131 - It was my guide, my light, my all, It bade my dark forebodings cease; And through the storm and danger's thrall, It led me to the port of peace. Now safely moored, my perils o'er, I'll sing, first in night's diadem, For ever and for evermore, The Star, the Star of Bethlehem.
Стр. 312 - Unhappy White ! while life was in its spring,* And thy young muse just waved her joyous wing, The spoiler came ; and all thy promise fair Has sought the grave, to sleep for ever there. Oh ! what a noble heart was here undone, When Science...
Стр. 203 - Parts it may ravage, but preserves the whole. On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but Passion is the gale ; Nor God alone in the still calm we find, He mounts the storm, and walks upon the wind.
Стр. 178 - We know whom we have believed, and are persuaded that he is able to keep that which we have committed unto him against that day.
Стр. 197 - Jesus' praise, their harpings now are o'er, Or, when the breeze comes by, moan and are heard no more. And must the harp of Judah sleep again? Shall I no more reanimate the lay? Oh! thou who visitest the sons of men, Thou who dost listen when the humble pray, One little space prolong my mournful day! One little lapse suspend thy last decree! I am a youthful traveller in the way, And this slight boon would consecrate to thee, Ere I with Death shake hands, and smile that I am free.

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