The Poetical MelangeG. A. Douglas, 1828 - English poetry |
From inside the book
Results 6-10 of 73
Page 58
... wing , In sportive twist the lightning's fiery wing ,. Which as the footsteps of the dreadful God , « Marching upon the storm in vengeance seemed Then turned , 58 THE POETICAL MELANGE .
... wing , In sportive twist the lightning's fiery wing ,. Which as the footsteps of the dreadful God , « Marching upon the storm in vengeance seemed Then turned , 58 THE POETICAL MELANGE .
Page 60
... wing , unearthly fluttering made , And gave abundant sport to after days . Great man ! the nations gazed , and wondered much , And praised and many called his evil good . Wits wrote in favour of his wickedness ' ; And kings to do him ...
... wing , unearthly fluttering made , And gave abundant sport to after days . Great man ! the nations gazed , and wondered much , And praised and many called his evil good . Wits wrote in favour of his wickedness ' ; And kings to do him ...
Page 66
... wings clap no more ! The plumes that to war and to victory led , For ever lie folded on Helena's shore . But where is the tomb that should mark the repose , Of that bright flaming comet on history's pages ? Or the shrine which the bay ...
... wings clap no more ! The plumes that to war and to victory led , For ever lie folded on Helena's shore . But where is the tomb that should mark the repose , Of that bright flaming comet on history's pages ? Or the shrine which the bay ...
Page 69
... wings his feet , joy lifts him from the ground ! Pointing to such , well might Cornelia say , When the rich casket shone in bright array , These are my jewels ! ' Well of such as he , When Jesus spake , well might his language be ...
... wings his feet , joy lifts him from the ground ! Pointing to such , well might Cornelia say , When the rich casket shone in bright array , These are my jewels ! ' Well of such as he , When Jesus spake , well might his language be ...
Page 80
... wings for heaven . H. K. White . AFFECTATION . In man or woman , but far most in man , And most of all in man that ministers And serves the altar , in my soul I loathe All affectation . ' Tis my perfect scorn , Object of my implacable ...
... wings for heaven . H. K. White . AFFECTATION . In man or woman , but far most in man , And most of all in man that ministers And serves the altar , in my soul I loathe All affectation . ' Tis my perfect scorn , Object of my implacable ...
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Common terms and phrases
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
Popular passages
Page 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...
Page 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.
Page 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'
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 166 - Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings.
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 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...