The Poets of the Nineteenth CenturyRobert Aris Willmott, Evert Augustus Duyckinck Harper & brothers, 1858 - Всего страниц: 616 |
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... never harsh . The visionary tenderness and romance of Mrs. Radcliffe are breathed over the Address to Melancholy , and the Song of a Spirit . The quotation from Hannah More was chosen for the subject which it offered to the Artist , who ...
... never harsh . The visionary tenderness and romance of Mrs. Radcliffe are breathed over the Address to Melancholy , and the Song of a Spirit . The quotation from Hannah More was chosen for the subject which it offered to the Artist , who ...
Стр. 7
... seraph wings . O Solitude ! the man who thee foregoes , When lucre lures him , or ambition stings , Shall never know the source whence real grandeur springs . " RETIREMENT . WHEN in the crimson cloud of even , 7 BEATTIE .
... seraph wings . O Solitude ! the man who thee foregoes , When lucre lures him , or ambition stings , Shall never know the source whence real grandeur springs . " RETIREMENT . WHEN in the crimson cloud of even , 7 BEATTIE .
Стр. 16
... never gaz'd , With mute unconsciousness of what he saw , On all around him ; learn'd not by degrees , Nor ow'd articulation to his ear ; But , moulded by his Maker into man , At once upstood intelligent , survey'd All creatures , with ...
... never gaz'd , With mute unconsciousness of what he saw , On all around him ; learn'd not by degrees , Nor ow'd articulation to his ear ; But , moulded by his Maker into man , At once upstood intelligent , survey'd All creatures , with ...
Стр. 20
... never beat , nor billows roar ; " And thy lov'd consort , on the dangerous tide Of life , long since has anchor'd by thy side . But me , scarce hoping to attain that rest , Always from port withheld , always distress'd , - Me howling ...
... never beat , nor billows roar ; " And thy lov'd consort , on the dangerous tide Of life , long since has anchor'd by thy side . But me , scarce hoping to attain that rest , Always from port withheld , always distress'd , - Me howling ...
Стр. 49
... never come again ? Will he ne'er come again ? Ah ! no , he is dead and laid in his grave , For ever to remain . " His cheek was redder than the rose ; The comeliest youth was he ! THE FRIAR OF ORDERS GRAY . But he is dead 49 PERCY .
... never come again ? Will he ne'er come again ? Ah ! no , he is dead and laid in his grave , For ever to remain . " His cheek was redder than the rose ; The comeliest youth was he ! THE FRIAR OF ORDERS GRAY . But he is dead 49 PERCY .
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BEACHY HEAD beam beauty bends beneath blue bosom bower breast breath breeze bright brow charms cheek cloud cold dark dead dear deep delight DEN BOSCH Ditto dread dream earth EPICURUS F. O. C. Darley fair fear FLORIO flowers fond friends gaze gentle gleam glory grave green grey hand hath heard heart heaven hill hour Kilmeny knew Lautaro LEWESDON HILL light living lonely look lov'd MARY TIGHE morning mortal decay murmurs never night o'er ocean old oaken bucket pride PRISONER OF CHILLON rocks round round the twisted scene seem'd shade shines shore sigh sight silent sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stood stout spurs stream summer sweet tears thee thine thou art thought tree trembling Twas vale voice wandering wave weep wild wind wings wood youth
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Стр. 467 - This it is and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door: — Darkness there and nothing more.
Стр. 137 - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards : Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is no light Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
Стр. 138 - The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home. She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn. Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Стр. 137 - Darkling I listen; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod.
Стр. 441 - What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?' And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : ' I heard the water lapping on the crag, And the long ripple washing in the reeds.
Стр. 454 - Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a...
Стр. 155 - The stars of midnight shall be dear To her ; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
Стр. 442 - So might some old man speak in the aftertime To all the people, winning reverence. But now much honour and much fame were lost.
Стр. 20 - My boast is not, that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned and rulers of the earth ; But higher far my proud pretensions rise — The son of parents passed into the skies!
Стр. 192 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow...