The Poetical MelangeG. A. Douglas, 1828 |
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Pagina xi
... Farewell to the land , where the gloom of my glory , 241 Fierce passions discompose the mind , 159 God moves in a mysterious way , Hark ! forth from the abyss a voice proceeds , 164 242 Hark , my soul , it is the Lord ,
... Farewell to the land , where the gloom of my glory , 241 Fierce passions discompose the mind , 159 God moves in a mysterious way , Hark ! forth from the abyss a voice proceeds , 164 242 Hark , my soul , it is the Lord ,
Pagina 9
... glory to those that in danger's hour Lay cold on the fields of war ; But ye mock the exile's heart when ye tell Of ought but the home where it pines to dwell ! A. B. P. HEART'S EASE .. I used to love thee , simple flower , To love thee ...
... glory to those that in danger's hour Lay cold on the fields of war ; But ye mock the exile's heart when ye tell Of ought but the home where it pines to dwell ! A. B. P. HEART'S EASE .. I used to love thee , simple flower , To love thee ...
Pagina 11
... glory , or the road to hell . ' : I asked my Bible , and methought it said , Time is the present hour , the past is fled , - Live , live to - day ! to - morrow never yet On any human being rose or set . ' I asked old . Father Time ...
... glory , or the road to hell . ' : I asked my Bible , and methought it said , Time is the present hour , the past is fled , - Live , live to - day ! to - morrow never yet On any human being rose or set . ' I asked old . Father Time ...
Pagina 34
... ! Yet bleeding and bound , tho ' the Wallace wight For his long - loved country die , The bugle ne'er sung to a braver knight Than William of Elderslie ! But the day of his glory shall never depart ; 34 THE POETICAL MELANGE .
... ! Yet bleeding and bound , tho ' the Wallace wight For his long - loved country die , The bugle ne'er sung to a braver knight Than William of Elderslie ! But the day of his glory shall never depart ; 34 THE POETICAL MELANGE .
Pagina 35
But the day of his glory shall never depart ; His head unentombed shall with glory be palmed ; From its blood - streaming altar his spirit shall start ; Tho ' the raven has fed on his mouldering heart , A nobler was never embalmed ...
But the day of his glory shall never depart ; His head unentombed shall with glory be palmed ; From its blood - streaming altar his spirit shall start ; Tho ' the raven has fed on his mouldering heart , A nobler was never embalmed ...
Cuprins
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Alte ediții - Afișează-le pe toate
The Poetical Melange. [Compiled by G. A. Douglas.], Volumul 2 George A. Douglas Vizualizare completă - 1828 |
Termeni și expresii frecvente
Anon beam beauty beneath blessed blest bliss bloom bosom bower breast breath bright brow Byron calm charm cheek child clouds cold Cumnor dark dead dear death deep doom dream dust earth eternal fade fair Farewell father fear feel fled flowers frae gazed glory glowing gone grave grief harp hast hath heart heaven Helvellyn hope hour John Malcolm Kilmeny land life's light lisp live lonely look LORD BYRON Mariamne MINSTREL BOY morning mortal mother mountain mourn ne'er never night o'er peace perished band praise prayer rapture rest rose round Samian wine scene seraph shade shed shining book shore sigh silent skies sleep slumber smile song sorrow soul spirit star sweet tears tempest thee thine thou art thought tomb trembling Twas twill vile bands voice wave ween weep wept wild winds wing youth
Pasaje populare
Pagina 131 - ALL thoughts,' all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve...
Pagina 24 - Tis now become a history little known, That once we call'd the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession ! but the record fair, That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Pagina 85 - The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse : Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further west Than your sires'
Pagina 222 - Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, So sweet, we know not we are listening to it, Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my Thought, Yea, with my Life and Life's own secret joy: Till the dilating Soul, enrapt, transfused, Into the mighty vision passing — there As in her natural form, swelled vast to Heaven.
Pagina 85 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earned.
Pagina 37 - Then shook the hills with thunder riven, Then rushed the steed to battle driven, And louder than the bolts of heaven Far flashed the red artillery. But redder yet that light shall glow On Linden's hills of stained snow, And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulph'rous canopy.
Pagina 166 - Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings.
Pagina 37 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Pagina 62 - If aught should tempt my soul to stray From heavenly wisdom's narrow way ; To fly the good I would pursue, Or do the sin I would not do ; Still He, who felt temptation's power, Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.
Pagina 22 - THAT those lips had language ! Life has passed With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine — thy own sweet smile I see, The same, that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, " Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away...