The retreat 'for talking age and whispering lovers made'.

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Binns and Goodwin, 1854 - 170 страници
 

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Страница 49 - If thou art worn and hard beset With sorrows, that thou wouldst forget, If thou wouldst read a lesson, that will keep Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep, Go to the woods and hills! — No tears Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.
Страница 119 - How soft the music of those village bells,' Falling at intervals upon the ear In cadence sweet ! now dying all away, Now pealing loud again, and louder still, Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on ! With easy force it opens all the cells Where Memory slept.
Страница 85 - But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion. Clothed with celestial grace ; And beautiful with all the soul's expansion Shall we behold her face. And though at times impetuous with emotion And anguish long suppressed, The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean* That cannot be at rest, — We will be patient, and assuage the feeling We may not wholly stay ; By silence sanctifying, not concealing, The grief that must have way THE BUILDERS.
Страница 101 - Then since this world is vain, And volatile and fleet, Why should I lay up earthly joys, Where rust corrupts, and moth destroys^ And cares and sorrows eat ? Why fly from ill With anxious skill, • When soon this hand will freeze, this throbbing heart be still...
Страница 54 - With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine — thy own sweet smile I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, " Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away!
Страница 17 - GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he's a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse and worst Times still succeed the...
Страница 7 - Unmixed with drops of bitter, which neglect Or temper sheds into thy crystal cup ; Thou art the nurse of virtue. In thine arms She smiles, appearing, as in truth she is, Heaven-born and destined to the skies again.
Страница 126 - So blue yon winding river flows, It seems an outlet from the sky, Where waiting till the west wind blows, The freighted clouds at anchor lie. All things are new ; — the buds, the leaves, That gild the elm-tree's nodding crest, And even the nest beneath the eaves ; — There are no birds in last year's nest...
Страница 108 - There was a time when meadow, grove and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore ; — Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
Страница 143 - It was good, it was kind, in the Wise One above, To fling Destiny's veil o'er the face of our years, That we dread not the blow that shall strike at our love, And expect not the beams that shall dry up onr tears.

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