The Works of Mrs. Hemans, with a Memoir by Her Sister, and an Essay on Her Genius by Mrs. Sigourney ...

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Lea and Blanchard, 1840
 

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Page 243 - O Lady! we receive but what we give And in our life alone does Nature live: Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud! And would we aught behold of higher worth, Than that inanimate cold world allowed To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd, Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the Earth And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth, Of all sweet sounds the life and element!
Page 33 - HAIL to thee, blithe spirit ! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
Page 229 - And Rizpah the daughter of Aiah took sackcloth, and spread it for her upon the rock, from the beginning of harvest until water dropped upon them out of heaven, and suffered neither the birds of the air to rest on them by day, nor the beasts of the field by night.
Page 46 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 219 - And let it mitigate thy woe's excess, That thou hast been to me all tenderness, And friend to more than human friendship just. Oh ! by that retrospect of happiness, And by the hopes of an immortal trust, God shall assuage thy pangs when I am -laid in dust.
Page 233 - Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told for a memorial of her.
Page 279 - tis Death itself there dies. EPITAPH. STOP, Christian Passer-by ! — Stop, child of God, And read with gentle breast. Beneath this sod A poet lies, or that which once seem'd he. — O, lift one thought in prayer for STC ; That he who many a year with toil of breath Found death in life, may here find life in death ! Mercy for praise — to be forgiven for fame He ask'd, and hoped, through Christ. Do thou the same ! 9th November, 1833.
Page 33 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
Page 193 - FOR the strength of the hills we bless thee, Our God, our fathers' God ! Thou hast made thy children mighty, By the touch of the mountain sod.
Page 214 - I bless thy name, That thou hast mantled the green earth with flowers, Linking our hearts to nature ! By the love Of their wild blossoms, our young footsteps first Into her deep recesses are beguiled...

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