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Страница 106 - THE stately homes of England, How beautiful they stand ! Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land. The deer across their greensward bound, Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream.
Страница 10 - Her lot is on you !— silent tears to weep, And patient smiles to wear through suffering's hour, And sumless riches, from affection's deep, To pour on broken reeds— a wasted shower ! And to make idols, and to find them clay, And to bewail that worship — therefore pray!
Страница 112 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Страница 242 - Speak, Father!" once again he cried, "If I may yet be gone!" —And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.
Страница 109 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set — but all — Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death ! THE LOST PLEIAD.
Страница 241 - THE boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but he had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead.
Страница 108 - Youth and the opening rose May look like things too glorious for decay, And smile at thee ! - but thou art not of those That wait the ripened bloom to seize their prey.
Страница 243 - That weigh'd their dark fringe down, to sit and watch The crimson deepening o'er his cheek's repose, As at a red flower's heart : and where a fount Lay, like a twilight star, midst palmy shades, Making its banks green gems along the wild, There too she...
Страница 126 - Pale glistening pearls, and rainbow-coloured shells, Bright things which gleam unrecked of, and in vain. — Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy Sea ! We ask not such from thee. Yet more, the Depths have more ! What wealth untold Far down, and shining through their stillness lies ! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold, Won from ten thousand royal Argosies.1 — Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful Main...
Страница 107 - Through glowing orchards forth they peep, Each from its nook of leaves, And fearless there the lowly sleep, As the bird beneath their eaves. The free, fair Homes of England ! Long, long, in hut and hall, May hearts of native proof be reared To guard each hallowed wall! And green for ever be the groves, And bright the flowery sod, Where first the child's glad spirit loves Its country and its God !* THE SICILIAN CAPTIVE.

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