The Forest Sanctuary: With Other PoemsW. Blackwood, 1829 - 324 Seiten |
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Seite 61
... pines groaning with tempestuous life , And all the mountain - voices on their way , - Was it not joy ? - ' twas joy in rushing might , After those years that wove but one long dead of night ! XXII . There came a softer hour , a lovelier ...
... pines groaning with tempestuous life , And all the mountain - voices on their way , - Was it not joy ? - ' twas joy in rushing might , After those years that wove but one long dead of night ! XXII . There came a softer hour , a lovelier ...
Seite 95
... pines , from which a waterfall descended , which not only gave animation to the sylvan scene , but was the best barometer imaginable ; fore- telling by its varied and intelligible sounds every approaching change , not only of the ...
... pines , from which a waterfall descended , which not only gave animation to the sylvan scene , but was the best barometer imaginable ; fore- telling by its varied and intelligible sounds every approaching change , not only of the ...
Seite 112
... pines were still , While a hollow chant came forth From the dark sepulchral hill . " There shines no sun ' midst the hidden dead , But where the day looks not the brave may tread ; There is heard no song , and no mead is pour'd , But ...
... pines were still , While a hollow chant came forth From the dark sepulchral hill . " There shines no sun ' midst the hidden dead , But where the day looks not the brave may tread ; There is heard no song , and no mead is pour'd , But ...
Seite 113
... , with voice and sign . But the wind strange magic knows , To call wild shape and tone From the grey wood's tossing boughs , When Night is on her throne . The pines clos'd o'er him with deeper gloom , As LAYS OF MANY LANDS . 113.
... , with voice and sign . But the wind strange magic knows , To call wild shape and tone From the grey wood's tossing boughs , When Night is on her throne . The pines clos'd o'er him with deeper gloom , As LAYS OF MANY LANDS . 113.
Seite 114
With Other Poems Felicia Dorothea Browne Hemans. The pines clos'd o'er him with deeper gloom , As he took the path to the monarch's tomb ; The Pole - star shone , and the heavens were bright With the arrowy streams of the Northern light ...
With Other Poems Felicia Dorothea Browne Hemans. The pines clos'd o'er him with deeper gloom , As he took the path to the monarch's tomb ; The Pole - star shone , and the heavens were bright With the arrowy streams of the Northern light ...
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art thou bear beautiful beneath blue blue streams booming shots borne bosom breast breath breeze bright bright land bright wave brow burst call'd dark dead death deep didst dreams dust dwell earth ev'n fade faint fair brow falchion farewell father fear fill'd floating fount glance gleam gloom glow gone grave grief hath hear heard heart Heaven holy hour hush'd joyous Lake of Lucerne land leaves light lone look look'd lov'd midst mighty mirth mournful night o'er Odin pale pass'd pines pour'd prayer rest rills Rio verde rose round Sea-king seem'd shades shadows shining silent sleep smile soft song soul sound Spain spear spirit stars storm streams sunny sweet tears thee Theseus thine things thou art Thou hast thou wert thought tone unto voice wakeful eye wandering wave weep whisper wild wind woods wouldst young youth
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Seite 244 - say, father ! say, If yet my task is done ? " He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son. " Speak, father!" once again he cried, " If I may yet be gone ! And" — but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.
Seite 203 - O'er youth's bright locks, and beauty's flowery crown : Yet must thou hear a voice — Restore the dead ! Earth shall reclaim her precious things from thee ! — Restore the dead, thou sea ! BRING FLOWERS.
Seite 245 - And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on. Upon his brow he felt their breath, And in his waving hair, And looked from that lone post of death In still yet brave despair; And shouted but once more aloud, 'My father! must I stay?
Seite 276 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath. And stars to set — but all — Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death ! THE LOST PLEIAD.
Seite 243 - THE boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but he had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead.
Seite 272 - tis lovely! — childhood's lip and cheek, Mantling beneath its earnest brow of thought, Gaze, — yet what seest thou in those fair, and meek, And fragile things, as but for sunshine wrought ? Thou seest what grief must nurture for the sky, What death must fashion for eternity ! Oh!
Seite 246 - With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is full of blessings.
Seite 275 - Day is for mortal care, Eve, for glad meetings round the joyous hearth, Night, for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer ; But all for thee, thou mightiest of the earth...
Seite 91 - I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea.
Seite 236 - OH ! ask not, hope thou not too much Of sympathy below ; Few are the hearts whence one same touch Bids the sweet fountains flow : Few — and by still conflicting powers Forbidden here to meet — Such ties would make this life of ours Too fair for aught so fleet.