The Poems of Adelaide A. ProcterLovell, 1884 - 442 Seiten |
Inhalt
| 21 | |
| 28 | |
| 34 | |
| 44 | |
| 50 | |
| 61 | |
| 66 | |
| 72 | |
| 172 | |
| 179 | |
| 185 | |
| 191 | |
| 198 | |
| 214 | |
| 220 | |
| 227 | |
| 75 | |
| 84 | |
| 90 | |
| 101 | |
| 107 | |
| 113 | |
| 121 | |
| 127 | |
| 145 | |
| 152 | |
| 159 | |
| 165 | |
| 234 | |
| 243 | |
| 255 | |
| 261 | |
| 267 | |
| 279 | |
| 287 | |
| 321 | |
| 329 | |
| 342 | |
| 351 | |
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Angel Bamble bitter blessing blue blue air Bregenz bride bright bright band calm cast child Clairvoyance clouds cold crown dark dead dear Death divine dream dreary earth echo eyes fade fear fled flowers gaze gentle Ghent gift glory God's golden Golden Girls grief hand hear heard Heaven honor hope Hush knew Kyrie Eleison light linger listened Little Dorrit live look Lord Lytton Mary Miserere mother murmur never night noble pain passed past pause peace PEARS SOAP phantom called pity poor pray prayer pride rest rose round seemed shade shadow shining silent Sketches by Boz skies smile sorrow soul spirit starry stars stir strange strife sweet tears tell tempest tender thee Theosophy thine thou thought thy heart to-day toil trembling Tyrol voice wailing wait watched weary wind wings wonder words ye stars
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 99 - She served kind, gentle masters, Nor asked for rest or change; Her friends seemed no more new ones, Their speech seemed no more strange; And when she led her cattle To pasture every day, She ceased to look and wonder On which side Bregenz lay. She spoke no more of Bregenz With longing and with tears; Her Tyrol home seemed faded In a deep mist of years. She heeded not the rumors Of Austrian war and strife; Each day she rose contented, To the calm toils of life.
Seite 331 - The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has not where to lay his head
Seite 140 - I thank Thee, too, that Thou hast made Joy to abound ; So many gentle thoughts and deeds Circling us round, That in the darkest spot of Earth Some love is found.
Seite 44 - Color and form to mine, Before I peril all for thee, Question thy soul to-night for me. I break all slighter bonds, nor feel A shadow of regret ; Is there one link within the past That holds thy spirit yet ? Or is thy faith as clear and free As that which I can pledge to thee ? Does there within thy dimmest dreams A possible future shine, Wherein thy life could henceforth breathe, Untouched, unshared by mine ? If so, at any pain or cost...
Seite 87 - Wait ; yet I do not tell you The hour you long for now Will not come with its radiance vanished, And a shadow upon its brow ; Yet far through the misty future, With a crown of starry light, An hour of joy you know not Is winging her silent flight.
Seite 32 - Where thou would'st only faint and yield. " The look, the air, that frets thy sight, May be a token, that below The soul has closed in deadly fight With some infernal, fiery foe, Whose glance would scorch thy smiling grace, And cast thee shuddering on thy face. " The fall thou darest to despise...
Seite 103 - Three hundred years are vanished, And yet upon the hill An old stone gateway rises, To do her honor still. And there, when Bregenz women Sit spinning in the shade, They see in quaint old carving The Charger and the Maid. And when, to guard old Bregenz, By gateway, street, and tower, The warder paces all night long And calls each passing hour ; "Nine," "ten,
Seite 48 - These many days; Will dreary hours never leave the earth? O doubting heart! The stormy clouds on high Veil the same sunny sky That soon (for spring is nigh) , Shall wake the summer into golden mirth. Fair hope is dead, and light Is quenched in night. What sound can break the silence of despair? O doubting heart! The sky is overcast, Yet stars shall rise at last, Brighter for darkness past, And angels
Seite 141 - I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept The best in store; We have enough, yet not too much To long for more : A yearning for a deeper peace, Not known before. I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls Though amply blest, Can never find, although they seek, A perfect rest, — Nor ever shall, until they lean On Jesus
Seite 99 - She sang them the old ballads Of her own native land ; And when at morn and evening She knelt before God's throne, The accents of her childhood Rose to her lips alone.