Book of the Poets: The Modern Poets of the Nineteenth Century |
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Page 38
... tear ; while , borne along By the full tide of unresisted song , I stop not to inquire if all be just ; But take her goodness , as her grief , on trust , Till calm reflection checks me , and I see The heroine as she was , and ought to ...
... tear ; while , borne along By the full tide of unresisted song , I stop not to inquire if all be just ; But take her goodness , as her grief , on trust , Till calm reflection checks me , and I see The heroine as she was , and ought to ...
Page 41
... tears . Volt . ( Passing the back of his hand across his eyes ) Faith , so they are ; well , well , but I smiled too : You heard the shouting ? Rosin . and Fred . Yes . Volt . O ! had you seen it ! Drawn out in goodly ranks , there ...
... tears . Volt . ( Passing the back of his hand across his eyes ) Faith , so they are ; well , well , but I smiled too : You heard the shouting ? Rosin . and Fred . Yes . Volt . O ! had you seen it ! Drawn out in goodly ranks , there ...
Page 42
... tear - choked voice , As though he would some grateful answer make ; When back with double force the whelming tide Of passion came ; high o'er his hoary head His arm he toss'd , and , heedless of respect , In Basil's bosom hid his aged ...
... tear - choked voice , As though he would some grateful answer make ; When back with double force the whelming tide Of passion came ; high o'er his hoary head His arm he toss'd , and , heedless of respect , In Basil's bosom hid his aged ...
Page 50
... tear , The joy dissembled , and the well - feign'd fear , All these were his ; and his each treach'rous art That steals the guileless and unpractised heart . Too soon he heard of fair Ianthe's fame , " Twas each enamour'd shepherd's fav ...
... tear , The joy dissembled , and the well - feign'd fear , All these were his ; and his each treach'rous art That steals the guileless and unpractised heart . Too soon he heard of fair Ianthe's fame , " Twas each enamour'd shepherd's fav ...
Page 51
... tears himself had taught to flow . To sad Ianthe soon the tale was borne , How Polydore to treachery added scorn . From The Bleeding Rock . EULOGIUM OF MOTHER BUNCH'S TALES . Mother Bunch's morals tell How blest all were who acted well ...
... tears himself had taught to flow . To sad Ianthe soon the tale was borne , How Polydore to treachery added scorn . From The Bleeding Rock . EULOGIUM OF MOTHER BUNCH'S TALES . Mother Bunch's morals tell How blest all were who acted well ...
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Book of the Poets: The Modern Poets of the Nineteenth Century (Classic Reprint) No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
art thou beauty behold Belshazzar beneath blood born bosom bower breast breath breeze bright brow CATILINE charms cheek child clouds cold CORBOULD Corn Law dark dead death deep delight Donald Macdonald dread dream earth fair fear flowers gaze gentle glory grave green hame hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Henry Kirke White holy hope hour Isle of Palms JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES king lady land light lips live lone look look'd Lord Lord Byron Lyre maid Martyr of Antioch Melfi morning mountain ne'er never night numbers o'er pale pass'd poem poet poetical poetry pride rose round Samian wine seem'd sigh sight silent sing sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit star stood storm stream sweet tears tempest thee thine thought tree turn'd Twas voice waves weep wild wind wings young youth
Popular passages
Page 111 - Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy Soul's immensity ; Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind, — Mighty Prophet ! Seer blest ! On whom those truths do rest, Which we are toiling all our lives to find...
Page 112 - Nor man nor boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy ! Hence, in a season of calm weather Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither; Can in a moment travel thither— And see the children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Page 109 - I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone : The pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat : Whither is fled the visionary gleam ? Where is it now, the glory and the dream...
Page 106 - My brother John and I. And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side.' ' How many are you, then,' said I, * If they two are in heaven ?' Quick was the little Maid's reply,
Page 413 - MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk : 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Page 167 - That sometimes from the savage den, And sometimes from the darksome shade, And sometimes starting up at once In green and sunny glade, There came and looked him in the face An angel beautiful and bright, And that he knew it was a fiend...
Page 111 - Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!
Page 168 - Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side, Whose gentle breathings, heard in this deep calm, Fill up the interspersed vacancies And momentary pauses of the thought ! My babe so beautiful ! it thrills my heart With tender gladness, thus to look at thee...
Page 307 - His steps are not upon thy paths, — thy fields Are not a spoil for him, — thou dost arise And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling to his Gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth : — there let him lay.
Page 105 - You run about/ my little maid/ your limbs they are alive ; if two are in the churchyard laid/ then ye are only five." " Their graves are green/ they may be seen/" the little maid replied/ "twelve steps or more from my mother's door/ and they are side by side.