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Anacreon arms Bard beam beauty bend beneath blank verse blest bloom bosom bowers breast breath bright Britons brow Capel Lofft Catullus charms cold dark dear death deep dread EPIGRAM fair falchion fame Fancy fate fear fond gale gentle glow grace grave grief grove hail hand heart Heaven hope hour light lonely lov’d lyre maid mind mourn Muse ne'er Nebaioth night numbers o'er pale peace Pindar plain pleasure poem poetical pow'r praise pride R. B. SHERIDAN rapture rill rise round sacred scene shade shine shore sigh Sirmio Small 8vo smile soft song SONNET sorrow soul sound spirit storm strain stream sweet Sylph tear tempest tender Theatre Royal thee thine thou thro toil tomb trembling vale verse virtue voice wave weep wild winds wing Ye sung youth
Стр. 231 - ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat, at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Стр. 402 - Why did all-creating Nature Make the plant for which we toil — Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters, iron-hearted, Lolling at your jovial boards ; Think how many backs have smarted For the sweets your cane affords.
Стр. 308 - HAST thou a charm to stay the morning-star In his steep course ? So long he seems to pause On thy bald awful head, O sovran BLANC ! The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly ; but thou, most awful Form ! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look again...
Стр. 310 - Ye Ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? GOD! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, GOD!
Стр. 190 - And I will multiply the fruit of the tree, and the increase of the field, that ye shall receive no more reproach of famine among the heathen.
Стр. 232 - Tis morn ; but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory or the grave ! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry! Few, few shall part where many meet...
Стр. 183 - And when all the children of Israel saw how the fire came down, and the glory of the Lord upon the house, they bowed themselves with their faces to the ground upon the pavement, and worshipped, and praised the Lord, saying, For he is good ; for his mercy endureth for ever.
Стр. 309 - Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful Form! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently! Around thee and above Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity! 0 dread and silent Mount! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought: entranced in prayer 1...