Poems

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Edward Earle, 1810 - 252 pages
 

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Page 4 - Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the Zephyr blows, While, proudly riding o'er the azure realm, In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes, Youth at the prow, and Pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway. That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey.
Page 236 - A thousand charms, thy form to deck, From sea, and earth, and air are torn; Roses bloom upon thy cheek, On thy breath their fragrance borne. Guard thy bosom from the day, Lest thy snows should melt away. But one charm remains behind, Which mute earth can ne'er impart; Nor in ocean wilt thou find, Nor in the circling air, a heart. Fairest! wouldst thou perfect be, Take, oh, take that heart from me.
Page 99 - I had a brother once — Peace to the memory of a man of worth, A man of letters, and of manners too ! Of manners sweet as Virtue always wears, When gay goodnature dresses her in smiles. He graced a college,* in which order yet Was sacred ; and was honour'd, loved, and wept By more than one, themselves conspicuous there.
Page 96 - O'er these mixt treasures of his pregnant breast, With conscious pride. From them he oft resolves To frame he knows not what excelling things ; And win he knows not what sublime reward Of praise and wonder.
Page 144 - And lo! the frightened billows swell, And whiten all the shore below. Soft flower, thy fate the Wanderer mourns, Who o'er these rocky summits strays, . While eve with chilling damps returns And dims the sun's departing rays. Poor flower! before those rays once more Shall kindle up the tardy day, Thy life, thy fragrance shall be o'er, Thy simple beauties die away. No sunny morn shall call thee forth, Nor evening smile on thy repose; - For dark and cold the coming North Bids all thy shrinking flow'rets...
Page 165 - WHEN calm is the night, and the stars shine bright, The sleigh glides smooth and cheerily; And mirth and jest abound, While all is still around, Save the horses' trampling sound, And the horse-bells tinkling merrily.
Page 198 - But one mild blue the welkin grace, And silence rest upon the air. For while to lonely musing given, Her thoughts to former days may flee, And 'mid the pleasures of the even, Perhaps that she may think on me ; Then, could the skies a message bear, Each wandering fire that rolls above, Should waft unto her listening ear, The truth that still I love, I love.
Page 148 - Farewell, sweet flower ! Thou rocky, sea-girt isle, farewell ! Where hostile strangers strive for power, And fear and superstition dwell. Yon vessel in the bay below Tomorrow bears me o'er the foam ; And some returning morn shall show A land of freedom and a home. He said, and from the lonely height He...
Page 236 - tis then ye shine ! JOHN SHAW A SONG Who has robb'd the ocean cave, To tinge thy lips with coral hue ? Who from India's distant wave, For thee, those pearly treasures drew...
Page 198 - Wanderer tarries here, And thou wilt find one little spot, Where busy Trade does not intrude, By pompous Art almost forgot, But lov'd by musing Solitude. When o'er that spot thy rays shall stream, Roll not unheeding through the sky, Steal gently down one brighter beam, And let it glance on Delia's eye. That eye, responsive to thy light, Shall tremble with a brighter ray, For well she loves to woo the night, When thou thy crescent dost display. And often when the young and gay, Crouded the lustre-lighted...

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