Notes of a wanderer, in search of health, through Italy, Egypt, Greece, Turkey, up the Danube and down the Rhine

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Seite 136 - Above me are the Alps, The palaces of Nature, whose vast walls Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps, And throned Eternity in icy halls Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls The avalanche — the thunderbolt of snow ! All that expands the spirit, yet appals, Gather around these summits, as to show How Earth may pierce to Heaven, yet leave vain man below, LXIII.
Seite 323 - Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care, And bring back the features that joy used to wear. Long, long be my heart with such memories filled ! Like the vase, in which roses have once been distilled — You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will. But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
Seite 183 - Even in its very motion there was rest ; While every breath of eve that chanced to blow Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west. Emblem, methought, of the departed soul, To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given ; And by the breath of mercy made to roll Right onward to the golden gates of Heaven ; Where to the eye of Faith it peaceful lies, And tells to man his glorious destinies.
Seite 182 - A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun, A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow : Long had I watched the glory moving on O'er the still radiance of the Lake below. Tranquil its spirit seemed, and floated slow .' Even in its very motion there was rest : While every breath of eve that chanced to blow, Wafted the traveller to the beauteous West.
Seite 360 - Countrymen, My heart doth joy that yet, in all my life, I found no man but he was true to me. I shall have glory by this losing day, More than Octavius and Mark Antony By this vile conquest shall attain unto. So fare you well at once; for Brutus...
Seite 355 - I've borne a weary lot ; But in my wanderings, far or near, Ye never were forgot. The fount that first burst frae this heart, Still travels on its way ; And channels deeper as it rins, The luve o' life's young day. O, dear, dear Jeanie Morrison, Since we were sindered young, I've never seen your face, nor heard The music o...
Seite 99 - I STOOD in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs ; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land...
Seite 102 - From that time, like everything else which falls into the hands of the Mussulman, it has been going to ruin, and the discovery of the passage to India by the Cape of Good Hope gave the deathblow to its commercial greatness.
Seite 327 - Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound. All at her work the village maiden sings; Nor, while she turns the giddy wheel around, Revolves the sad vicissitude of things.
Seite 43 - Thus saith the LORD of Hosts, Consider ye, and call for the mourning women, that they may come...

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