A garland of poems for the youngReligious Tract Society, 1847 - 96 страници |
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Страница 29
... praise . " " The dove , my " What is that , mother ? " . son ! - And that low , sweet voice , like a widow's moan , Is flowing out from her gentle breast , Constant and pure , by that lonely nest , As the wave is pour'd from some ...
... praise . " " The dove , my " What is that , mother ? " . son ! - And that low , sweet voice , like a widow's moan , Is flowing out from her gentle breast , Constant and pure , by that lonely nest , As the wave is pour'd from some ...
Страница 54
... praise , ye brooks , attune , ye trembling rills ; And let me catch it , as I muse along . Ye headlong torrents , rapid and profound ; Ye softer floods , that lead the humid maze Along the vale ; and thou , majestic main , A secret ...
... praise , ye brooks , attune , ye trembling rills ; And let me catch it , as I muse along . Ye headlong torrents , rapid and profound ; Ye softer floods , that lead the humid maze Along the vale ; and thou , majestic main , A secret ...
Страница 55
... praise . The thunder rolls ! be hushed the prostrate world ! While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn . Bleat out afresh , ye hills ; ye mossy rocks , Retain the sound : the broad responsive low , Ye valleys raise ; for the great ...
... praise . The thunder rolls ! be hushed the prostrate world ! While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn . Bleat out afresh , ye hills ; ye mossy rocks , Retain the sound : the broad responsive low , Ye valleys raise ; for the great ...
Страница 56
... again , and better still , In infinite progression . But I lose Myself in Him , in Light ineffable ! Come , then , expressive Silence , muse His praise . THOMSON . GO , LOVELY ROSE . Go , lovely Rose ! 56 A GARLAND OF POEMS .
... again , and better still , In infinite progression . But I lose Myself in Him , in Light ineffable ! Come , then , expressive Silence , muse His praise . THOMSON . GO , LOVELY ROSE . Go , lovely Rose ! 56 A GARLAND OF POEMS .
Страница 70
... praise . " JANE TAYLOR . - THE FROST SPIRIT . HE comes he comes - the Frost Spirit comes ! You may trace his footsteps now , On the naked woods and the blasted fields , And the brown hill's wither'd brow . He has smitten the leaves of ...
... praise . " JANE TAYLOR . - THE FROST SPIRIT . HE comes he comes - the Frost Spirit comes ! You may trace his footsteps now , On the naked woods and the blasted fields , And the brown hill's wither'd brow . He has smitten the leaves of ...
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ANON beam beauty birds blossom bosom bowers breast breath bright brightly brow busy Bee BUTTERFLY child churchyard clouds comes he comes-the comes-the Frost Spirit Conwy dark dead dear death delight doth dream dwell dwelleth dwelleth God earth fair FAKENHAM fear flowers Frost Spirit comes gentle goblin gone grace green happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven Helvellyn Holy Ground hour infant Jesus joyous Lark light little maid Little maiden look look'd Lord lov'd lyre maiden mother mountains nest never nigh night o'er pain pass'd peace Pebble praise pray prayer RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY rest rill rocks rose round Sabbath scene seraph shade shine sigh sing smile song sorrow soul Spring storm stream summer sweet SWEETBRIER tarn tell tempest tender thee thine thou art thou busy thought to-morrow toil tree voice warbling wert wing wrapp'd young
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Страница 57 - Go, lovely Rose! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
Страница 35 - Wouldst softly speak and stroke my head and smile — Could those few pleasant days again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here? I would not trust my heart : the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might.
Страница 34 - Tis now become a history little known, That once we called the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession ! but the record fair, That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Страница 81 - You run about, my little Maid, Your limbs they are alive ; If two are in the churchyard laid, Then ye are only five." " Their graves are green, they may be seen...
Страница 56 - When even at last the solemn hour shall come, And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers, Will rising wonders sing. I cannot go Where universal love not smiles around...
Страница 80 - I met a little cottage girl, She was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head.
Страница 36 - I seem to have lived my childhood o'er again ; To have renewed the joys that once were mine, Without the sin of violating thine : And, while the wings of Fancy still are free, And I can view this mimic show of thee, Time has but half succeeded in his theft — Thyself removed, thy power to soothe me left.
Страница 81 - Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother; And, in the churchyard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother.
Страница 51 - O'er mountain, tower, and town, Or mirrored 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.
Страница 9 - GOD might have bade the earth bring forth Enough for great and small, The oak-tree and the cedar-tree, Without a flower at all.