The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive PoetryAlaric Alexander Watts Wells and Lilly, 1828 - 395 страници |
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Страница 9
... sweet days Already proved as leave a light that plays Upon the memory when their warmth is gone The fount thus treasures sun - beams , and shines on Through dusk and darkness . Like some happy mother , Joy marked the hours pursuing one ...
... sweet days Already proved as leave a light that plays Upon the memory when their warmth is gone The fount thus treasures sun - beams , and shines on Through dusk and darkness . Like some happy mother , Joy marked the hours pursuing one ...
Страница 18
... Sweet incense to sweet shrines , dew - scented flowers Filled up the casements ; roses , on whose leaves The summer had just breathed ; the buds of pearl That are the myrtle's dower ; carnation stems , Rich in their perfumed blushes ...
... Sweet incense to sweet shrines , dew - scented flowers Filled up the casements ; roses , on whose leaves The summer had just breathed ; the buds of pearl That are the myrtle's dower ; carnation stems , Rich in their perfumed blushes ...
Страница 20
... sweet simpleness ; but one Slight flower lay on her neck , -- a green rosebud , Tinged with faint promise of its future bloom ; And near it the young Painter leant his head , Bowed , as in bitter thought upon his hand ; Over his cheek ...
... sweet simpleness ; but one Slight flower lay on her neck , -- a green rosebud , Tinged with faint promise of its future bloom ; And near it the young Painter leant his head , Bowed , as in bitter thought upon his hand ; Over his cheek ...
Страница 21
... sweet , —and poetry , whose songs Are Love's own words , until he dreamed that fame Was a reality that he might win . He dreamed but to awake with withered heart And wasted health , and hopes like fallen stars , Crushed and stained with ...
... sweet , —and poetry , whose songs Are Love's own words , until he dreamed that fame Was a reality that he might win . He dreamed but to awake with withered heart And wasted health , and hopes like fallen stars , Crushed and stained with ...
Страница 37
... sweet As her's whom story fabled once the queen Of beauty ; there saffron , and citron boughs , Cedar , and sweet perfuming sandal woods Were burning ; and distilled and fragrant waters Sparkled in crystal ; —but around them stalked ...
... sweet As her's whom story fabled once the queen Of beauty ; there saffron , and citron boughs , Cedar , and sweet perfuming sandal woods Were burning ; and distilled and fragrant waters Sparkled in crystal ; —but around them stalked ...
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BARRY CORNWALL beam beauty beneath bird Blackwood's Magazine bliss bloom blue blush bosom bower breast breath bright brow calm charm cheek clouds dark dead dear death deep dreams earth fade fair Farewell fate feel flame fled flowers gaze gentle GEORGE CROLY gleam gloom glory glow gone grave green grief hast hath heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre hope HORACE SMITH hour kiss life's light lips Literary Gazette London Magazine lonely look LORD BYRON love's loveliness lute lyre morning murmur ne'er never night o'er pale PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY rose round S. T. COLERIDGE scene shade shed shine shore sigh silent sleep slumber smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star storm stream sweet swell tears thee thine thou art thought tomb Twas voice wandering wave weep wild winds wing young youth
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Страница 95 - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow ! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little hell reck if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him...
Страница 95 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
Страница 214 - Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France, Charge for the Golden Lilies — upon them with the lance. A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest ; And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a guiding star, Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.
Страница 102 - I ARISE from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright. I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Hath led me — who knows how?
Страница 214 - D'Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemish count is slain. Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale; The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven mail. And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van, "Remember St. Bartholomew!" was passed from man to man. But out spake gentle Henry, "No Frenchman is my foe: Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go.
Страница 89 - Seek out— less often sought than found — A soldier's grave, for thee the best; Then look around, and choose thy ground, And take thy rest.
Страница 121 - We have, above ground, seen some strange mutations : The Roman empire has begun and ended, New worlds have risen, we have lost old nations ; And countless kings have into dust been humbled, While not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled.
Страница 71 - TRIUMPHAL arch, that fill'st the sky When storms prepare to part, I ask not proud philosophy To teach me what thou art. Still seem, as to my childhood's sight, A midway station given For happy spirits to alight Betwixt the earth and heaven.
Страница 126 - The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one spirit meet and mingle. Why not I with thine?
Страница 169 - They sin who tell us Love can die, With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity. In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell, Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell ; Earthly these passions of the 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...