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Стр. 111 - The appearance, instantaneously disclosed, Was of a mighty City — boldly say A wilderness of building, sinking far And self-withdrawn into a wondrous depth, Far sinking into splendour — without end ! Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold, With alabaster domes, and silver spires, And blazing terrace upon terrace, high Uplifted...
Стр. 45 - O'er mountain, tower, and town, Or mirror'd in the ocean vast, A thousand fathoms down ! ' ;" '""' As fresh in yon horizon dark, As young thy beauties seem, As when the eagle from the ark First sported in thy beam. For, faithful to its sacred page, Heaven still rebuilds thy span, Nor lets the type grow pale with age That first spoke peace to man.
Стр. 114 - Two Voices are there ; one is of the sea, One of the mountains ; each a mighty Voice : In both from age to age thou didst rejoice, They were thy chosen music, Liberty ! There came a Tyrant, and with holy glee Thou fought'st against him ; but hast vainly striven : Thou from thy Alpine holds at length art driven, Where not a torrent murmurs heard by thee. Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been bereft : Then cleave, O cleave to that which still is left ; For...
Стр. 113 - Feebly must They have felt Who, in old time, attired with snakes and whips The vengeful Furies. Beautiful regards Were turned on me — the face of her I loved ; The Wife and Mother, pitifully fixing Tender reproaches, insupportable!
Стр. 112 - If for a Lover the Lady wept, A solace she might borrow From death, and from the passion of death ;Old Wharf might heal her sorrow. She weeps not for the wedding-day Which was to be to-morrow : Her hope was a farther-looking hope, And hers is a Mother's sorrow.
Стр. 245 - In its sublime research, philosophy May measure out the ocean-deep — may count The sands or the sun's rays — but, God! for Thee There is no weight nor measure; none can mount Up to Thy mysteries; Reason's brightest spark, Though kindled by Thy light, in vain would try To trace Thy counsels, infinite and dark; And thought is lost ere thought can soar so high, Even like past moments in eternity.
Стр. 245 - What shall we call them ? Piles of crystal light — A glorious company of golden streams — Lamps of celestial ether, burning bright — Suns lighting systems with their joyous beams ? But thou to these art as the noon to night.
Стр. 45 - O'er mountains yet untrod, Each mother held aloft her child To bless the bow of God. Methinks thy jubilee to keep, The first-made anthem rang On earth delivered from the deep, And the first poet sang. Nor ever shall the Muse's...
Стр. 112 - Far in the bosom of Helvellyn, Remote from public road or dwelling, Pathway or cultivated land, From trace of human foot or hand.