Poetical Sketches: The Profession, the Broken Heart, Etc. : with Stanzas for Music, and Other PoemsHurst, Robinson, 1824 - 189 páginas |
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Página 13
... breast , And left his gentle Deity , to seek , Not other idols , but forgetfulness ! The maiden knew not of his love , unless His passionate glance at parting , when he clasped Her hand in token of farewell , revealed The tale his lips ...
... breast , And left his gentle Deity , to seek , Not other idols , but forgetfulness ! The maiden knew not of his love , unless His passionate glance at parting , when he clasped Her hand in token of farewell , revealed The tale his lips ...
Página 18
... breast at least ; since pride might now No longer interpose its chilling chain Between him and the load - star of his love ! It was an idle thought : -those simple strains ( The only incense he could offer then ) Which he had breathed ...
... breast at least ; since pride might now No longer interpose its chilling chain Between him and the load - star of his love ! It was an idle thought : -those simple strains ( The only incense he could offer then ) Which he had breathed ...
Página 30
... breast . Too well divineth he the voiceless grief Which breathes in each unbidden sigh , and beams From forth her humid eyes ! Too well he knows That love and keen anxiety for him Have paled the ruby of her lip , and chased The rose's ...
... breast . Too well divineth he the voiceless grief Which breathes in each unbidden sigh , and beams From forth her humid eyes ! Too well he knows That love and keen anxiety for him Have paled the ruby of her lip , and chased The rose's ...
Página 39
... breast in joy's luxuriant bower ! O'er her pure forehead , pale as moonlit snow , Her ebon locks are parted , and her brow Stands forth like morning from the shades of night , Serene , though clouds hang over it . The bright And ...
... breast in joy's luxuriant bower ! O'er her pure forehead , pale as moonlit snow , Her ebon locks are parted , and her brow Stands forth like morning from the shades of night , Serene , though clouds hang over it . The bright And ...
Página 41
... - been o'erthrown , - And these the trophies of the strife alone . A resignation of the will , a calm Derived from pure religion ( that sweet balm For wounded breasts ) is seated on her brow , A SKETCH FROM REAL LIFE . 41.
... - been o'erthrown , - And these the trophies of the strife alone . A resignation of the will , a calm Derived from pure religion ( that sweet balm For wounded breasts ) is seated on her brow , A SKETCH FROM REAL LIFE . 41.
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Otras ediciones - Ver todo
Términos y frases comunes
Amid anguish AZRA bark beam beauty beneath beneath the sky blast bliss bloom blue bosom bowers breast breath bright brow burst cheek chill chords clouds collected soul controul dark deep delight Despair dream dwell earth ebon Farewell Fate fears feeling flowers fond friends gaze gladness glance gloom grief hath heart Heaven Heaven allow hopes hour hues Ithuriel Life's light lips LORD BYRON loveliness lute Lyre melody memory mirth Montblanc mortal murmurs musing ne'er neath never numbers o'er pain Paradise Lost passionate past peace Pennons Perchance pride pulse rays repose ROBINSON & CO rush sadness scaped Simoom SKETCH smile snows soothe sorrow soul spell STANZAS storm strains stream strife summer's swell tears thine think of thee THOMAS STOTHARD thou art thrill tremulous twas visions visso waves Whilst wild winds wing withered
Pasajes populares
Página vii - Though they as a trifle leave thee, Whose dull thoughts cannot conceive thee, Though thou be to them a scorn, That to nought but earth are born, Let my life no longer be Than I am in love with thee, Though our wise ones call thee madness, Let me never taste of gladness, If I love not thy mad'st fits More than all their greatest wits.
Página 63 - See the wretch, that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigour lost, And breathe and walk again : The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening paradise.
Página 187 - Nothing can be more touching than to behold a soft and tender female, who had been all weakness and dependence, and alive to every trivial roughness while treading the prosperous paths of life, suddenly rising in mental force, to be the comforter and supporter of her husband under misfortune, and abiding, with unshrinking firmness, the bitterest blasts of adversity?
Página 24 - I, too, am changed — I scarce know why ; Can feel each flagging pulse decay, And youth, and health, and visions high, Melt like a wreath of snow away ! Time cannot sure have wrought the ill ; Though worn in this world's sickening strife In soul and form, — I linger still In the first summer month of life ; Yet journey on my path below, — Oh ! how unlike — ten years ago...
Página iii - The moving accident is not my trade; To freeze the blood I have no ready arts: 'Tis my delight, alone in summer shade, To pipe a simple song for thinking hearts.
Página 39 - twould almost seem As though, epitomized in one deep beam. Her full collected soul upon the heart, Whate'er its mask, she strove at once to dart: And few may brave the talisman that 's hid 'Neath the dark fringes of her drooping lid.
Página 25 - In soul and form, I linger still In the first summer month of life ; Yet journey on my path below, Oh ! how unlike — ten years ago ! But look not thus : I would not give The wreck of hopes that thou must share, To bid those joyous hours revive, When all around me seemed so fair.
Página 183 - Attired in a splendid dress, and decked with all the jewels of her family and friends, she takes public leave of her acquaintance, visits, on her way to the convent, several other nunneries to be seen and admired by the recluse inhabitants, and even the crowd which collects in her progress follows her with tears and blessings. As she approaches the church of her monastery, the dignified ecclesiastic who is to perform the ceremony, meets the intended novice at the door, and leads her to the altar...
Página 36 - I'm still with thee ! Thy beauty, helplessness, and youth, — Thy hapless fate, untiring truth ; Are spells that often touch the key Of sweet...
Página 26 - Have we not knelt beside his bed, And watched our first-born blossom die? Hoped till the shade of hope had fled, Then wept till feeling's fount was dry? Was it not sweet, in that dark hour, To think, 'mid mutual tears and sighs, Our bud had left its earthly bower, And burst to bloom in Paradise? What to the thought that soothed that woe Were heartless joys — ten years ago?