College rhymes, contributed by members of the universities of Oxford and Cambridge, Томове 8–9

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Страница 189 - In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity : The north cannot undo them With a sleety whistle through them, Nor frozen thawings glue them From budding at the prime. In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook. Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look ; But with a sweet forgetting They stay their crystal fretting, Never, never petting About the frozen time.
Страница 189 - Other Romans shall arise, Heedless of a soldier's name, Sounds, not arms, shall win the prize, Harmony the path to fame. Then the progeny that springs From the forests of our land, Armed with thunder, clad with wings, Shall a wider world command. Regions Caesar never knew Thy posterity shall sway, Where his eagles never flew, None invincible as they.
Страница 163 - Three years she grew in sun and shower; Then Nature said: "A lovelier flower On earth was never sown; This child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make A lady of my own. "Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse; and with me The girl in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power, To kindle or restrain.
Страница 189 - Such the bard's prophetic words, Pregnant with celestial fire, Bending as he swept the chords Of his sweet but awful lyre. She with all a monarch's pride, Felt them in her bosom glow, Rushed to battle, fought and died, Dying, hurled them at the foe. Ruffians ! pitiless as proud, Heaven awards the vengeance due ; Empire is on us bestowed, Shame and ruin wait for you ! HEROISM.
Страница 132 - When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget.
Страница 189 - Tis because resentment ties All the terrors of our tongues. ' Rome shall perish, — write that word In the blood that she has spilt ; Perish hopeless and abhorred, Deep in ruin as in guilt. 'Rome, for empire far renowned, Tramples on a thousand states ; Soon her pride shall kiss the ground,— Hark ! the Gaul is at her gates.
Страница 189 - In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook. Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look ; But with a sweet forgetting They stay their crystal fretting, Never, never petting About the frozen time. Ah ! would 'twere so with many A gentle girl and boy ! But were there ever any Writhed not at passed joy ? To know the change and feel it, When there is none to heal it Nor numbed sense to steal it — Was never said in rhyme.
Страница 189 - the Deep Voice cried, " So long enjoyed, so oft misused — Alternate, in thy fickle pride, Desired, neglected, and accused? " Before my breath, like blazing flax, Man and his marvels pass away ; And changing empires wane and wax, Are founded, flourish, and decay. " Redeem mine hours — the space is brief — While in my glass the sand-grains shiver, And measureless thy joy or grief, When TIME and thou shall part for ever...
Страница 189 - He talked of the past and present, and all looked cheerful and bright. He talked of a soft Spring morning, when first he saw my face : — He was an unknown painter, and had come to stay in the place ; And he used to take his painting out in the sunny land — It was there that first I met him, it was there that he asked my hand. And oft at eve in the sunlight by the fern-clad stile we stood, That leads from the field of clover into the hazel wood ; While the thousand voices of labour came up from...
Страница 189 - There was an Old Man who said, 'How, — shall I flee from this horrible Cow? I will sit on this stile, and continue to smile, Which may soften the heart of that Cow.

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