The Wanderer of Switzerland, and Other PoemsLongman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, 1806 - 175 страници |
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Страница 40
James Montgomery. UNDERWALDEN thus expired , But at her expiring flame , With fraternal feeling fired , Lo , a band of SWITZERS came . * * From the steeps beyond the lake , Like a Winter's weight of fnow , When the huge Lavanges break ...
James Montgomery. UNDERWALDEN thus expired , But at her expiring flame , With fraternal feeling fired , Lo , a band of SWITZERS came . * * From the steeps beyond the lake , Like a Winter's weight of fnow , When the huge Lavanges break ...
Страница 49
... feel a Widow too ! " Mother ! Widow ! Daughter ! —all , All kind names in one , -my Child ! On thy faithful neck I fall ; Kifs me , - -are we reconciled ? " Was Dtr . " Yes ! to ALBERT I appeal ; ALBERT ! anfwer from above , That my ...
... feel a Widow too ! " Mother ! Widow ! Daughter ! —all , All kind names in one , -my Child ! On thy faithful neck I fall ; Kifs me , - -are we reconciled ? " Was Dtr . " Yes ! to ALBERT I appeal ; ALBERT ! anfwer from above , That my ...
Страница 66
... Find their SWITZERLAND again . Mountains ! can ye chain the will ? Ocean ! canft thou quench the heart ? No ! -I feel my Country still , LIBERTY ! where'er thou art . Thus it was in hoary time , When our fathers THE WANDERER.
... Find their SWITZERLAND again . Mountains ! can ye chain the will ? Ocean ! canft thou quench the heart ? No ! -I feel my Country still , LIBERTY ! where'er thou art . Thus it was in hoary time , When our fathers THE WANDERER.
Страница 72
... d , O mine arm ! SWITZERLAND is but a name ! -Yet I feel where'er I roam , That my heart is still the fame ; SWITZERLAND is ftill my home ! " ( END OF THE SIXTH AND LAST PART , THE GRAVE . T HERE is a calm for those THE WANDERER .
... d , O mine arm ! SWITZERLAND is but a name ! -Yet I feel where'er I roam , That my heart is still the fame ; SWITZERLAND is ftill my home ! " ( END OF THE SIXTH AND LAST PART , THE GRAVE . T HERE is a calm for those THE WANDERER .
Страница 79
... feel ; He wounds them for his mercy's fake , He wounds to heal ! " Humbled beneath his mighty hand , Proftrate his Providence adore : ' Tis done ! -Arife ! HE bids thee ftand , To fall no more . " Now , Traveller in the vale of tears ...
... feel ; He wounds them for his mercy's fake , He wounds to heal ! " Humbled beneath his mighty hand , Proftrate his Providence adore : ' Tis done ! -Arife ! HE bids thee ftand , To fall no more . " Now , Traveller in the vale of tears ...
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Често срещани думи и фрази
ALBERT Alps arms Art thou Berkeley blifs blood bofom breaſt breath caft CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Canton of URI ceaſe charms clouds cold confuming country's dark dead dear death deſpair earth expiring falute fathers fell fhade fhall filence fire fix'd flain flaves fled fleep flood flowers flumber fmile foes foft foreft forrows foul FRIEND ftars ftill ftole ftorm ftreams fublime fuch fweet fword GAULS glory grave grief Hark heart heaven hoary hurl'd kifs land light Lyre MEMNON Mother mountains mufic neft night numbers o'er pale plain pleaſure promiſe pulfe raiſed reft rife rill riſe rocks rofe ſcene ſhall ſhe Shep ſkies ſky ſmile Spirit ſport ſpread ſtand ſtar ſtill ſweet Swifs tears tempeft thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thou thro tomb treaſure Twas UNDERWALDEN UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA vale valley vengeance Wand WANDERER OF SWITZERLAND weep weft whofe wild wilderneſs wind youth
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Страница 174 - The changing spirits' rise and fall ; We know that these were felt by him, For these are felt by all. He suffered, — but his pangs are o'er; Enjoyed, — but his delights are fled; Had friends — his friends are now no more ; And foes, — his foes are dead. He...
Страница 152 - The purple heath and golden broom, On moory mountains catch the gale, O'er lawns the lily sheds perfume, The violet in the vale; But this bold...
Страница 79 - There is a calm for those who weep, A rest for weary pilgrims found ; And while the mouldering ashes sleep Low in the ground, " The Soul, of origin divine, GOD'S glorious image, freed from clay, In heaven's eternal sphere shall shine A star of day. " The SUN is but a spark of fire, A transient meteor in the sky ; The SOUL, immortal as its Sire, SHALL NEVER DIE.
Страница 75 - By all the terrors of the tomb, Beyond the power of tongue to tell ! By the dread secrets of my womb ! By Death and Hell ! ' I charge thee live ! — repent and pray ; In dust thine infamy deplore ; There yet is mercy ; — go thy way, And sin no more.
Страница 79 - To fall no more. Now, traveller in the vale of tears To realms of everlasting light, Through Time's dark wilderness of years, Pursue thy flight. There is a calm for those who weep, A rest for weary pilgrims found: And while the mouldering ashes...
Страница 164 - And with livid contagion polluting the breeze, Its mildewing influence sheds : The birds on the wing, and the flowers in their beds, Are slain by its venomous breath, That darkens the noonday with death ; And pale ghosts of travellers wander around, While their mouldering skeletons whiten the ground.
Страница 98 - Ambition, pride, revenge depart, And folly flies her chastening rod ; She makes the humble contrite heart A temple of the living GOD. Beyond the narrow vale of time, Where bright celestial ages roll, To scenes eternal, scenes sublime, She points the way, and leads the soul. At her approach the Grave appears The Gate of Paradise restored ; Her voice the watching Cherub hears, And drops his double-flaming sword.
Страница 150 - It pass'd, — my HANNAH was the bride. — There is a grief that cannot feel ; It leaves a wound that will not heal ; — My heart grew cold, — it felt not then : When shall it cease to feel again ? 1801.
Страница 86 - Lyre ! O Lyre ! my chosen treasure, Solace of my bleeding heart ; Lyre ! O Lyre ! my only pleasure, We will never, never part : Glory, Commerce, now in vain Tempt me to the field, the main ; The Muse's sons are blest, though born To cold neglect, and penury, and scorn.
Страница 166 - But woe to the winds that propitiously breathe, And waft them in safety to port, Where the vultures and vampires of Mammon resort ; Where Europe exultingly drains The life-blood from Africa's veins ; Where man rules o'er man with a merciless rod, And spurns at his footstool the image of God ! The hour is approaching, — a terrible hour ! And Vengeance is bending her bow...