Palgrave's Golden Treasury: 1st series

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J. M. Dent & Company, 1909 - 351 páginas

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Página 79 - and live laborious days ; (That last infirmity of noble mind) But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears And slits the thin-spun life. ' But not the praise ' « Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil,
Página 124 - in a robe of darkest grain Flowing with majestic train, And sable stole of cyprès lawn Over thy decent shoulders drawn : Come, but keep thy wonted state, With even step, and musing gait, And looks commercing with the skies, Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes : There, held in holy parssion still, Forget thyself to
Página 36 - Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' the great, Thou art past the tyrant's stroke ; Care no more to clothe and eat ; To thee the reed is as the oak : The sceptre, learning, physic, must Fear no more the lightning-flash Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone
Página 81 - And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, The glowing violet, The white pink, and the pansy freak'd with jet, The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears : Bid
Página 237 - I can give not what men call love ; But wilt thou accept not The worship the heart lifts above And the Heavens reject not : The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow ? cciv PB
Página 143 - blow«, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded Vessel goes : Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm : Regardless of the sweeping Whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey. Reft of a. crown, he yet may share the feast : Close by the regal chair
Página 66 - and stones, Forget not : In thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piemontese, that roll'd Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moan« The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To Heaven. Their martyr'd blood and
Página 214 - CLXXX A slumber did my spirit seal ; I had no human fears : She seem'da thing that could not feel The touch of earthly years. No motion has she now, no force ; She neither hears nor sees ; Roll'd round in earth's diurnal course With rocks, and stones, and trees. W. WORDSWORTH
Página 210 - And now I see with eye serene The very pulse of the machine ; A being breathing thoughtful breath, A traveller between life and death : The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill ; A perfect woman, nobly plann'd To warn, to comfort, and command ; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of an angel-light. W.
Página 81 - —And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth ! Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor ; So sink« the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head And tricks his

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