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 22
... thou bad'st me write on thee ; And now I write - what thou shalt never see ! At length the Father , vain his power to save , Follows his child in silence to the grave , ( That child how cherish'd , whom he would not give , Sleeping the ...
... thou bad'st me write on thee ; And now I write - what thou shalt never see ! At length the Father , vain his power to save , Follows his child in silence to the grave , ( That child how cherish'd , whom he would not give , Sleeping the ...
Page 25
... thou hast persuaded ; what none have dared , thou hast done ; and whom all the world have flattered , thou only hast cast out and despised : thou hast drawn together all the far - stretched greatness , all the pride , cruelty and ...
... thou hast persuaded ; what none have dared , thou hast done ; and whom all the world have flattered , thou only hast cast out and despised : thou hast drawn together all the far - stretched greatness , all the pride , cruelty and ...
Page 32
... Thou , Frederic , by thy father stay . Though old , and now forgot of men , Both must not leave him in a day . " Then , and he shook his hoary head , " Unhappy in thy youth ! " he said . " Call as thou wilt , thou call'st in vain ; No ...
... Thou , Frederic , by thy father stay . Though old , and now forgot of men , Both must not leave him in a day . " Then , and he shook his hoary head , " Unhappy in thy youth ! " he said . " Call as thou wilt , thou call'st in vain ; No ...
Page 54
... thou art ! Yet I could weep - for thou art lying , alas ! Low in the dust ; and they who come , admire thee As we admire the beautiful in death . Thine was a dangerous gift , the gift of Beauty . Would thou hadst less , or wert as once thou ...
... thou art ! Yet I could weep - for thou art lying , alas ! Low in the dust ; and they who come , admire thee As we admire the beautiful in death . Thine was a dangerous gift , the gift of Beauty . Would thou hadst less , or wert as once thou ...
Page 56
... Thou wert an honest lad ; Wert generous , grateful , not without ambition . Had it depended on thy will and pleasure , Thou wouldst have number'd in thy family At least six Doges and twelve Procurators . ( 34 ) But that was not to be ...
... Thou wert an honest lad ; Wert generous , grateful , not without ambition . Had it depended on thy will and pleasure , Thou wouldst have number'd in thy family At least six Doges and twelve Procurators . ( 34 ) But that was not to be ...
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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