Minor PoemsLongman, 1828 - 178 Seiten |
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anguish beauty beneath bestow bitter bless bosom breast bright brow burst comfort dark DEAR APLIN death desolate despair dust E'en earth faith Farewell fate feel flowers garden of Gethsemane gaze gifts glad song grace grave grief hail hand happier happy hath Heaven holy hope hour human humble idolatry infant J. B. NICHOLS JOHN OWEN keep incessant Lady LAST SUPPER LEONARDO DA VINCI light Lines written lips live Lord Lord Byron maniac song may'st mercy mind Misery mother mourner ne'er never night o'er OXFORDSHIRE pain Paradise regain'd peace pierce the darkness pity pour'd pow'r praise pray'r pride PRINTED BY J. B. proud pure Rosanne ruined scene seraphs sigh sight Sinner's prayer smile song sorrow soul spirit sting strain struggle sweet tear thee thou art thou hast thoughts thy heart triumph truth Twas virtue wanderer weep wild dance words
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 50 - any thing be more full of pathos. These few words say all that can be said or sought. The dead had had enough of life, all they wanted was rest, and this they implore. Here is all the helplessness and humble hope and death-like prayer that can arise from the grave—IMPLORA PACE ! I hope whoever may survive me will see these two words,
Seite 11 - not proceeded far, when the mother perceived a party of Turks coming towards them. Horrified at the fate which was about to befal her daughter, a beautiful girl of sixteen, she turned to the Son, who was armed, and told him to shoot his sister, lest she should become a victim of Mussulman brutality. The youth
Seite 115 - ne*er to a seductive lay Let faith be given, Nor deem that' light which leads astray, Is light from Heaven.
Seite 71 - Smell sweet in death, and blossom in the dust.
Seite 55 - Judaea's plains A more than mortal silence reigns ; The starry hosts in squadrons bright Glow in the firmament of night, And shepherds watch their sleeping fold, Beneath that arch of fretted gold. When lo ! a stream of glorious light Burst in appalling splendour there, And
Seite 53 - The Spring whence her relief has flow'd. Friends of distress! be your best fame The Homage of the Hearts ye raise ! May distant climes still bless your name ! And foreign tongues still speak your praise! Wide as the World your
Seite 42 - He rests on violet banks no languid limb, The Bank of England is the Bank for him; Nor Bull nor Lion he triumphant rides, But Bullion is the golden beast he guides; He takes no cold by midnight serenade,
Seite 115 - Hopeless of peace below, and, shuddering thought! Far from that Heav'n, denied, if never sought, Thy light a beacon—a reproach thy name— Thy memory "damn'd to everlasting fame,
Seite 87 - tis the penalty we pay, in this frail world of ours, To find that hues which soonest fade are born of sweetest flowers, The brightest clouds an ardent eye with rapture gazes on Are only seen in evening
Seite 55 - Here, gush the living springs that flow In streams of peace to hearts of woe, With silent, healing power; Heaven's blessing aids your generous zeal, Nor fails the cruise, nor wastes the meal. In Famine's evil hour. Blest is this Temple, pure