The poetical works and remains of Henry Kirke White with life

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Appleton, 1855 - Всего страниц: 456
 

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Стр. 350 - 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. 357 - 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. 339 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. 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.
Стр. 201 - 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. 383 - Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters, and maketh the clouds his chariot, and walketh upon the wings of the wind.
Стр. 27 - Then since this world is vain, And volatile, and fleet, Why should I lay up earthly joys, Where rust corrupts, and moth destroys, And cares and sorrows eat ? 'Why fly from ill With anxious skill, When soon this hand will freeze, this throbbing heart be still?
Стр. 382 - THE Lord descended from above, And bowed the heavens most high; And underneath his feet he cast The darkness of the sky. 2 On cherub and on cherubim, Full royally, he rode ; And on the wings of mighty winds Came flying all abroad.
Стр. 206 - Twas thine own genius gave the final blow, And helped to plant the wound that laid thee low : So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain, No more through rolling clouds to soar again, Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart, And...
Стр. 346 - LORD, another day is flown, And we, a lonely band, Are met once more before thy throne, To bless thy fostering hand. And wilt thou bend a listening ear, To praises low as ours ? Thou wilt!
Стр. 347 - Deep horror then my vitals froze, death-struck, -I ceased the tide to stem; when suddenly a star arose — it was the Star of Bethlehem.

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