Poetic gems: partly original; but chiefly selected from the best authors: by S. BlackburnG. Dennis, 1833 - 240 pages |
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Page 3
... feel Solemnity , not gloom : The place is purified with hope , The hope that is of prayer ; And human love , and heavenward thought , And pious faith are there . The wild flowers spring amid the grass ; And many a stone appears , Carv'd ...
... feel Solemnity , not gloom : The place is purified with hope , The hope that is of prayer ; And human love , and heavenward thought , And pious faith are there . The wild flowers spring amid the grass ; And many a stone appears , Carv'd ...
Page 7
... feel a pang Though this should meet his eye . No skies so blue or so serene As then ; -no leaves look half so green , As cloth'd the play - ground tree ! All things I lov❜d are alter'd so ; Nor does it ease my heart to know That change ...
... feel a pang Though this should meet his eye . No skies so blue or so serene As then ; -no leaves look half so green , As cloth'd the play - ground tree ! All things I lov❜d are alter'd so ; Nor does it ease my heart to know That change ...
Page 33
... feeling's then , When on the field he stood , His blunted sword and sable arms Purpled with Gallic blood ; When , all disabl'd and forlorn , He saw the foeman fly ? I could for such a moment's joy Be well content to die . " And would'st ...
... feeling's then , When on the field he stood , His blunted sword and sable arms Purpled with Gallic blood ; When , all disabl'd and forlorn , He saw the foeman fly ? I could for such a moment's joy Be well content to die . " And would'st ...
Page 34
... And is it not more sweet than this , To feel thy parents ' hearts approving , And pay them back , in sums of bliss , The dear , the endless debt of loving . It must be so to thee , my youth ; 34 To a Youth, with a Watch Anon.
... And is it not more sweet than this , To feel thy parents ' hearts approving , And pay them back , in sums of bliss , The dear , the endless debt of loving . It must be so to thee , my youth ; 34 To a Youth, with a Watch Anon.
Page 44
... feeling , from the meanest thing ; And its own mystery of enchantment threw O'er other hearts , till echoed every string ? This is strange contrast - but how such things are Bewilder not thy watchful , wondering heart ; For I will shew ...
... feeling , from the meanest thing ; And its own mystery of enchantment threw O'er other hearts , till echoed every string ? This is strange contrast - but how such things are Bewilder not thy watchful , wondering heart ; For I will shew ...
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Common terms and phrases
age to age Anon art thou beauty beneath blessed bliss bloom bosom breast breath bright Cambyses charm cheerful child clouds COLCHESTER cold cried crimson-tipped dark dead dear death delight dread E'en earth fair fancy father fear feel flowers gaz'd Gelert glory grave green grief hand happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven hope hour hush'd kiss kiss of love learned friend life's light lonely look look'd lov'd lyre morning mother mountain Nature's ne'er never night o'er pale pass'd paths of glory peace pleasure poor rill rock round scene seem'd seraph shade shadows roll shine sigh silent skies sleep slumber smile song soon sorrow soul sound spirit stars stream sweet tears tell tempest Thebes thee thine thou thought to-morrow tomb tree truth Twas Twill voice wandering wild wind wings young youth
Popular passages
Page 108 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care : No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke ! Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure ; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and...
Page 72 - 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...
Page 233 - The man whose eye Is ever on himself doth look on one, The least of Nature's works, one who might move The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds Unlawful, ever.
Page 111 - The next with dirges due in sad array Slow thro' the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay, Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page 142 - Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing, While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings, Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round ; Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound : And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
Page 236 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny ; You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face, You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve : Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Page 234 - THE way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old; His withered cheek, and tresses gray, Seemed to have known a better day ; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by an orphan boy. The last of all the Bards was he, Who sung of, Border chivalry; For, well-a-day!
Page 145 - MUMMY (AT BELZONI'S EXHIBITION) Horace Smith And thou hast walked about (how strange a story!) In Thebes's streets three thousand years ago. When the Memnonium was in all its glory, And time had not begun to overthrow Those temples, palaces, and piles stupendous, Of which the very ruins are tremendous.
Page 110 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Page 109 - The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton, here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. Th...