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Pagina 172 - But where to find that happiest spot below Who can direct, when all pretend to know ? The shuddering tenant of the frigid zone Boldly proclaims that happiest spot his own ; Extols the treasures of his stormy seas, And his long nights of revelry and ease : The naked negro, panting at the Line, Bonsts of his golden sands and palmy wine, Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave, And thanks his gods for all the good they gave.
Pagina 17 - Hark, they whisper ! Angels say : — ' Sister spirit, come away ! ' What is this absorbs me quite ? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirit, draws my breath ? Tell me, my soul, can this be death...
Pagina 172 - The shuddering tenant of the frigid zone Boldly proclaims that happiest spot his own; Extols the treasures of his stormy seas, And his long nights of revelry and ease : The naked negro, panting at the line, Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine, Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave, And thanks his gods for all the good they gave.
Pagina 332 - With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears Such hideous cries, that, with the very noise, I trembling wak'd, and, for a season after, Could not believe but that I was in hell, — Such terrible impression made my dream.
Pagina 110 - Th' enchanting hope, and sympathetic glow, Beam'd from the mutual eye. Devoting all To love, each was to each a dearer self; Supremely happy in th' awaken'd power Of giving joy.
Pagina 298 - He left his home with a swelling sail, Of fame and fortune dreaming : With a spirit as free as the vernal gale Or the pennon above him streaming. He hath reached his...
Pagina 39 - Pent in this fortress of the North, Think'st thou we will not sally forth, To spoil the spoiler as we may, And from the robber rend the prey ? Ay, by my soul!
Pagina 298 - He hath reached his goal — by a distant wave 'Neath a sultry sun they've laid him — And stranger forms bent o'er his grave When the last sad rites were paid him. He should have died in his own loved land With friends and kinsfolk near him ; Not have withered thus on a foreign strand With no thought, save heaven, to cheer him.
Pagina 295 - Let him who fights unseen relate his own, And vouch the silent stars, and conscious moon. Great is the prize demanded, I confess, But such an abject rival makes it less. That gift, those honours, he but hoped to gain, Can leave no room for Ajax to be vain; Losing he wins, because his name will be Ennobled by defeat, who durst contend with me.
Pagina 149 - And in this same epistle he apostrophizes thus : "All Hail, Religion, Maid Divine, Pardon a muse so mean as mine, Who in her rough, imperfect line, Thus dares to name thee, To stigmatize false friends of thine, Can ne'er defame thee.

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