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ancient arm'd art thou asii Bartram's Travels bended Bow blue streams borne bowers breast breath breeze bright land brow burst cave chant cheek dark dead death deep didst Doth dreams earth Eternal records ev'n fade faint fair brow faithful band falchion farewell father fearful fill'd fled floating fount glance gleam gloom grave hath hear heard heart Heaven hour hush'd Ianthis joyous Lake of Lucerne leave light lone look look'd lov'd midst mighty mirth mournful night o'er Odin's Hall pale pfay phantom horses pines pour'd rest rills Rio verde rock Sea-king seas seem'd shades shadow shining shore silent sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit spring step stood streams sung sweet sword tears tell thee Theseus thine thou art Thou hast thou wert thought tomb tone voice pass'd wave weep wild WILD HUNTSMAN wind woods wouldst thou young youth
Страница 188 - Give back the lost and lovely ! — those for whom The place was kept at board and hearth so long ! The prayer went up through midnight's breathless gloom, And the vain yearning woke 'midst festal song ! Hold fast thy buried isles, thy towers o'erthrown — But all is not thine own.
Страница 91 - I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea.
Страница 188 - Yet more, the depths have more ! Thy waves have rolled Above the cities of a world gone by ; Sand hath filled up the palaces of old, Sea-weed o'ergrown the halls of revelry. Dash o'er them, ocean ! in thy scornful play : Man yields them to decay. Yet more ! the billows and the depths have more ! High hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast ! They hear not now the booming waters roar, The battle-thunders will not break their rest.
Страница 151 - Oh, father ! is it vain, This late remorse and deep ? Speak to me, father ! once again, I weep — behold, I weep ! Alas ! my guilty pride and ire ! Were but this work undone, I would give England's crown, my sire ! To hear thee bless thy son.
Страница 98 - It is a timepiece that advances very regularly near four minutes a day ; and no other group of stars exhibits, to the naked eye, an observation of time so easily made. How often have we heard our guides exclaim, in the savannahs of the Venezuela, or in the desert extending from Lima to Truxillo, 'Midnight is past, the Cross begins to bend!
Страница 146 - He lived — for life may long be borne Ere sorrow break its chain ; Why comes not death to those who mourn ? He never smiled again ! There stood proud forms around his throne, The stately and the brave, But which could fill the place of one...
Страница 98 - In the solitude of the seas, we hail a star as a friend from whom we have long been separated. Among the Portuguese and the Spaniards peculiar motives seem to increase this feeling; a religious sentiment attaches them to a constellation, the form of which recalls the sign of the faith planted by their ancestors in the deserts of the New World.
Страница 100 - Anon some wilder portraiture he draws ; Of Nature's savage glories he would speak, — The loneliness of earth that overawes, — Where, resting by some tomb of old Cacique, The lama-driver on Peruvia's peak Nor...
Страница 133 - We call them far through the silent night, And they speak not from cave or hill; We know, thou bird! that their land is bright, But say, do they love there still ? 1 1 ANSWER TO THE MESSENGER BIRD.
Страница 98 - How often these words reminded us of that affecting scene where Paul and Virginia, seated near the source of the river of Lataniers, conversed together for the last time ; and where the old man, at the sight of the Southern Cross, warns them that it is time to separate !"— DE HUMBOLDT'S Travels.