The Poetical Works of Rogers, Campbell, J. Montgomery, Lamb, and Kirke White: Complete in One VolumeCarey & Lea, 1830 - 496 pages |
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Page 10
... stood and gazed ; Gazed on her sun - burnt face with silent awe , Her tatter'd mantle , and her hood of straw ; Her moving lips , her caldron brimming o'er ; The drowsy brood that on her back she bore , Imps in the barn with mousing ...
... stood and gazed ; Gazed on her sun - burnt face with silent awe , Her tatter'd mantle , and her hood of straw ; Her moving lips , her caldron brimming o'er ; The drowsy brood that on her back she bore , Imps in the barn with mousing ...
Page 22
... stood , no merrier man than he ! And , as they wander with a keen delight , If but a leveret catch their quicker sight Down a green alley , or a squirrel then Climb the gnarl'd oak , and look and climb again , If but a moth flit by , an ...
... stood , no merrier man than he ! And , as they wander with a keen delight , If but a leveret catch their quicker sight Down a green alley , or a squirrel then Climb the gnarl'd oak , and look and climb again , If but a moth flit by , an ...
Page 32
... stood ; By Turenne , when the Rhine ran blood ; Two banners of Castile he gave Aloft in Notre Dame to wave ; Nor did thy Cross , St. Louis , rest Upon a purer , nobler breast . He slung his old sword by his side , And snatch'd his staff ...
... stood ; By Turenne , when the Rhine ran blood ; Two banners of Castile he gave Aloft in Notre Dame to wave ; Nor did thy Cross , St. Louis , rest Upon a purer , nobler breast . He slung his old sword by his side , And snatch'd his staff ...
Page 33
... stood . Now he sigh'd heavily ; and now , His hand withdrawing from his brow , He shut the volume with a frown , To walk his troubled spirit down : -When ( faithful as that dog of yore1 Who wagg'd his tail and could no more ) Manchon ...
... stood . Now he sigh'd heavily ; and now , His hand withdrawing from his brow , He shut the volume with a frown , To walk his troubled spirit down : -When ( faithful as that dog of yore1 Who wagg'd his tail and could no more ) Manchon ...
Page 34
... stood in dread suspense , Her tears her only eloquence ! All , all the while - an awful distance keeping ; Save D'Arcy , who nor speaks nor stirs ; And one , his little hand in hers , Who weeps to see his sister weeping . Then ...
... stood in dread suspense , Her tears her only eloquence ! All , all the while - an awful distance keeping ; Save D'Arcy , who nor speaks nor stirs ; And one , his little hand in hers , Who weeps to see his sister weeping . Then ...
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Common terms and phrases
age to age amidst arms art thou beauty behold beneath blest blood bosom breast breath CAPEL LOFFT Charles Lamb charm clouds dark dead death deep delight dream earth eternal father fear fire flame flowers gaze gloom glory Gondoline grace grave Greenland grief hand hath heart heaven Henry Kirke White hope hopes and fears hour Javan land light living lonely look'd Lord lyre mind moon morning mother mountains Muse Nature's never night Note numbers o'er once pale pass'd peace Petrarch PSALM rapture rest rise rock rose round scene seem'd shade shine shore sigh silent sing sleep slumbers smile song SONNET sorrow soul spirit star stood storm sublime sweet tears tempest thee Theodric thine thou thought tomb trembling turn'd vale Venice voice wandering waves weep wild wind wings woods youth
Popular passages
Page 142 - Where furious Frank, and fiery Hun, Shout in their sulph'rous 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
Page 341 - There is no union here of hearts, That finds not here an end : Were this frail world our only rest. Living or dying, none were blest. Beyond the flight of Time, Beyond this vale of death, There surely is some blessed clime Where life is not a breath,
Page 130 - blood, murdered all the relations of Logan, even my women and children. •• There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature : — this called on me for revenge. — I have fought for it. — I have killed many — I have fully glutted my vengeance,
Page 142 - 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. By torch and trumpet fast array'd. Each horseman drew his battle-blade. And furious every charger neigh'd, To join the dreadful revelry.
Page 141 - YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND. A NAVAL ODE. YE mariners of England ! That guard our native seas. Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, The battle and the breeze ! Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe! And sweep through the deep, While the stormy
Page 251 - He shall come down, like showers Upon the fruitful earth, And love, joy, hope, like flowers, Spring in his path to birth : Before Him on the mountains, Shall Peace the herald go ; And righteousness in fountains From hill to valley flow. Arabia's desert-ranger. To Him shall bow the knee ; The Kthiopian stranger His glory come to see : With offerings of devotion,
Page 105 - T is distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue. Thus, with delight we linger to survey The promised joys of life's unmeasured way ; Thus, from afar, each dim-discover'd scene More pleasing seems than all the past hath been; And every
Page 144 - Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I »wore From my home and my weeping friends never to part: My little ones kiss'd me a thousand times o'er. And my wife sobb'd aloud in her fullness of heart. Stay, stay with us,—rest, thou art weary and worn ; And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay . But sorrow
Page 143 - LORD ULLTN'S DAUGHTER. A CHIEFTAIN, to the Highlands bound, Cries, " Boatman, do not tarry ! And I'll give thee a silver pound, To row us o'er the ferry."— •• Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle, This dark and stormy water ?"
Page 393 - upon the day, A bliss that would not go away, A sweet forewarning? TO CHARLES LLOYD, AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. ALONE, obscure, without a friend, A cheerless, solitary thing, Why seeks my Lloyd the stranger out? What offering can the stranger bring Of social scenes, home-bred delights, That him in aught compensate may For Stowey's pleasant winter