English songs, and other small poems, by Barry Cornwall

Chapman and Hall, 1851 - 284 páginas

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Página 70 - And backwards flew to her billowy breast, Like a bird that seeketh its mother's nest; And a mother she was and is to me ; For I was born on the open sea! The waves were white, and red the morn, In the noisy hour when I was born ; And the whale it whistled, the porpoise rolled, And the dolphins bared their backs of gold; And never was heard such an outcry wild As welcomed to life the Ocean-child...
Página 69 - THE SEA. The Sea ! the Sea ! the open Sea ! The blue, the fresh, the ever free ! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round ; It plays with the clouds ; it mocks the skies ; Or like a cradled creature lies.
Página 122 - And loveth the wood's deep gloom; And, with eyes like the shine of the moonstone cold, She awaiteth her ghastly groom.
Página 122 - Nor lonely the bird, nor his ghastly mate, They are each unto each a pride : Thrice fonder, perhaps, since a strange, dark fate Hath rent them from all beside! So when the night falls, and dogs do howl, Sing, ho! for the reign of the horned owl! We know not alway Who are kings by day, But the king of the night is the bold brown owl!
Página 24 - Methinks I love all common things — The common air, the common flower ; The dear, kind, common thought, that springs From hearts that have no other dower...
Página 165 - s be mad together ! CXI. —THE FALCON. THE Falcon is a noble bird, And when his heart of hearts is stirred, He 'll seek the eagle, though he run Into his chamber near the sun. Never was there brute or bird, Whom the woods or mountains heard, That could force a fear or care From him, — the Arab of the air...
Página 86 - On thee he leaves; Some lines of care round both Perhaps he weaves; Some fears, — a soft regret For joys scarce known ; Sweet looks we half forget; — All else is flown! Ah!— With what thankless heart I mourn and sing! Look, where our children start, Like sudden Spring! With tongues all sweet and low, Like a pleasant rhyme, They tell how much I owe To thee and Time!
Página 108 - What cometh ? — look, look ! without menace, or call ? Who writes, with the Lightning's bright hand, on the wall ? What pierceth the King, like the point of a dart ? What drives the bold blood from his cheek to his heart ! " Chaldeans ! Magicians ! the letters expound...
Página 162 - Tread softly through these amorous rooms : For every bough is hung with life, And kisses, in harmonious strife, Unloose their sharp and winged perfumes ! From Afric, and the Persian looms, The carpet's silken leaves have sprung, And heaven, in its blue bounty, flung These starry flowers, and azure blooms.
Página 114 - She. O father, let us find our frozen rocks ! Let's seek that country of all countries — HOME ! He. Seest thou these orange flowers ? this palm that rears Its head up toward heaven's blue and cloudless dome ? She. I dream, I dream ; mine eyes are hid in tears ; My heart is wandering round our ancient home. He. Why, then, we'll go. Farewell, ye tender skies, Who sheltered us, when we were forced to roam ! She. On, on ! Let's pass the swallow as he flies ! Farewell, kind land ! Now. father, now —...

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