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arms bear beauty beneath birds blow breath bright bring child cold cried dark dead dear death deep door doth eyes face fair fall father fear fire flower follow Gilpin give grave gray green Hall hand hast hear heard heart Heaven hill hour John keep lady lamb land leaves light Line live lone look Lord lost loud maid meet merry mind morning mother mountain Nature never night o'er once peace pleasure rest round seen side sing sleep song soon soul sound spread Spring stars storm sweet tell thee things thou thought Till true turn Twas voice waves weep wife wild wind woods young youth
Стр. 126 - Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Стр. 19 - Then might all people well discern The bottles he had slung ; A bottle swinging at each side, As hath been said or sung. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up flew the windows all ; And every soul cried out, "Well done!
Стр. 135 - In saffron robe, with taper clear, And pomp and feast and revelry, With mask and antique pageantry, Such sights as youthful poets dream On summer eves by haunted stream. 130 Then to the well-trod stage anon, If Jonson's learned sock be on, Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild.
Стр. 98 - Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
Стр. 82 - 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. 77 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Стр. 97 - But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place ! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover...
Стр. 77 - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord...
Стр. 83 - 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 ! The snow shall be their winding-sheet ; And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.