The British Poets, Band 7

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Little, Brown & Company, 1866
 

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Seite 27 - Though I should gaze for ever On that green light that lingers in the west: I may not hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.
Seite 28 - There was a time when, though my path was rough, This joy within me dallied with distress, And all misfortunes were but as the stuff Whence Fancy made me dreams of happiness : For Hope grew round me, like the twining vine, And fruits, and foliage, not my own, seemed mine.
Seite 26 - Those sounds which oft have raised me, whilst they awed, And sent my soul abroad, Might now perhaps their wonted impulse give, Might startle this dull pain, and make it move and live! II A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear, A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief, Which finds no natural outlet, no relief, In word, or sigh, or tear— 0 Lady!
Seite 83 - ALL Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair — The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing — And Winter, slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring ! And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Seite 30 - Tis of the rushing of an host in rout. With groans, of trampled men, with smarting wounds — At once they groan with pain, and shudder with the cold! But hush! there is a pause of deepest silence! And all that noise, as of a rushing crowd, With groans, and tremulous shudderings— all is over — It tells another tale, with sounds less deep and loud! A tale of less affright. And tempered with delight. As Otway's self- had framed the tender lay.
Seite 73 - twixt Now and Then ! This breathing House not built with hands, This body that does me grievous wrong, O'er aery Cliffs and glittering Sands, How lightly then it flashed along...
Seite 31 - Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing, And may this storm be but a mountain-birth, May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling, Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth! With light heart may she rise, Gay fancy, cheerful eyes, Joy lift her spirit, joy attune her voice : To her may all things live, from Pole to Pole, Their life the eddying of her living soul ! O simple spirit, guided from above, Dear Lady ! friend devoutest of my choice, Thus mayest thou ever, evermore rejoice.
Seite 74 - Youth! for years so many and sweet, "Tis known, that Thou and I were one, I'll think it but a fond conceit — It cannot be that Thou art gone!
Seite 64 - ERE on my bed my limbs I lay, It hath not been my use to pray With moving lips or bended knees ; But silently, by slow degrees, My spirit I to Love compose, In humble Trust mine eye-lids close, With reverential resignation, No wish conceived, no thought expressed ! Only a sense of supplication.
Seite 27 - 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 I v. O pure of heart ! thou need'st not ask of me What this strong music in the soul may be ! What, and wherein it doth exist, This light, this glory, this fair luminous mist, This beautiful and beauty-making power.

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