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Страница 337 - Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire ; Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
Страница 337 - Await alike the inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Страница 417 - Return, O holy Dove, return, Sweet messenger of rest ! I hate the sins that made thee mourn, And drove thee from my breast. 5 The dearest idol I have known, Whate'er that idol be, Help me to tear it from thy throne, And worship only thee.
Страница 421 - Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods, that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay, So thou, with sails how swift, hast reached the shore 'Where tempests never beat nor billows roar,' And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life long since has anchored by thy side.
Страница 420 - I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? It was. Where thou art gone Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown : May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore, The parting word shall pass my lips no more...
Страница 336 - ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Страница 46 - Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the Sun, her Eyes the Gazers strike, And, like the Sun, they shine on all alike. Yet graceful Ease, and Sweetness void of Pride, Might hide her Faults, if Belles had Faults to hide : If to her share some Female Errors fall, Look on her Face, and you'll forget 'em all. This Nymph, to the Destruction of Mankind, Nourish'd two Locks which graceful hung behind In equal Curls, and well conspir'd to deck With shining Ringlets the smooth Iv'ry Neck.
Страница 338 - For thee, who, mindful of the unhonoured dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate ; If chance, by lonely Contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say...