The Poetical Works of David Macbeth Moir, Том 2

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William Blackwood, 1860
 

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Страница 371 - Herostratus lives that burnt the temple of Diana, he is almost lost that built it ; Time hath spared the epitaph of Adrian's horse, confounded that of himself. In vain we compute our felicities by the advantage of our good names, since bad have...
Страница 373 - Constantine; the cross glittered on their helmet, was engraved on their shields, was interwoven into their banners; and the consecrated emblems which adorned the person of the emperor himself, were distinguished only by richer materials and more exquisite workmanship.
Страница 364 - As when a gryphon through the wilderness With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale, Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth Had from his wakeful custody purloined The guarded gold...
Страница 99 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
Страница 266 - Yon turfen bench the veteran loved, Beneath the threshold tree ; For from that spot he could survey The broad expanse of sea, — That element where he so long Had been a rover free ! And lighted up his faded face, When, drifting in the gale, He with his telescope could catch, Far off, a coming sail : It was a music to his ear To list the sea-mew's...
Страница 371 - But the iniquity of oblivion blindly scattereth her poppy, and deals with the memory of men without distinction to merit of perpetuity. Who can but pity the founder of the pyramids? Herostratus lives that burnt the temple of Diana, he is almost lost that built it. Time hath spared the epitaph of Adrian's horse, confounded that of himself.
Страница 303 - What doth it matter, then, if thus Without a stone, without a name To impotently herald us, We float not on the breath of fame ; But, like the dewdrop from the flower, Pass, after glittering for an hour...
Страница 314 - Hath autumn shed its leaves, and Arctic gales Brought wintry desolation on their wings : When Memory ponders on that boyish scene, Broken seems almost every tie that links That day to this, and to the child the man : The world is alter'd quite in all its thoughts, In all its works and ways, its sights and sounds— With the same name it is another sphere, And by another race inhabited. The old familiar dwellings, with their trees Coeval, mouldering wall, and dovecot rent— The old familiar faces...
Страница 121 - Earth, They perish where they have their birth ; But Love is indestructible. Its holy flame for ever burneth, From Heaven it came to Heaven returneth ; Too oft on Earth a troubled guest, At times deceived, at times opprest, It here is tried and purified, Then hath in Heaven its perfect rest : It soweth here with toil and care, But the harvest time of Love is there.
Страница 256 - To me through every season dearest ; In every scene, — by day, by night, Thou present to my mind appearest, •A quenchless star, for ever bright, — My solitary, sole delight, — Alone, in wood, by shore, at sea, I think of thee ! CARLISLE YETTS.

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