The Pleasures of MemoryE.H. Butler & Company, 1864 - 124 Seiten |
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Seite 23
... fears . To learn the color of my future years ! Ah , then , what honest triumph flushed my breast ; This truth once known , -To bless is to be blest ! We led the bending beggar on his way , ( Bare were his feet , his tresses silver ...
... fears . To learn the color of my future years ! Ah , then , what honest triumph flushed my breast ; This truth once known , -To bless is to be blest ! We led the bending beggar on his way , ( Bare were his feet , his tresses silver ...
Seite 40
... fear the frowns of Fate ? Hers what no wealth can buy , no power create ! A little world of clear and cloudless day , Nor wrecked by storms , nor mouldered by decay ; A world , with MEMORY'S ceaseless sunshine blest , The home of ...
... fear the frowns of Fate ? Hers what no wealth can buy , no power create ! A little world of clear and cloudless day , Nor wrecked by storms , nor mouldered by decay ; A world , with MEMORY'S ceaseless sunshine blest , The home of ...
Seite 90
... fear and sorrow fan the fire of joy ! And say , without our hopes , without our fears , Without the home that plighted love endears , Without the smile from partial beauty won , Oh ! what were man ? a world without a sun . Till Hymen ...
... fear and sorrow fan the fire of joy ! And say , without our hopes , without our fears , Without the home that plighted love endears , Without the smile from partial beauty won , Oh ! what were man ? a world without a sun . Till Hymen ...
Seite 91
... to pour Her blissful visions on thy pensive hour , No tear to blot thy memory's pictured page , No fears but such as fancy can assuage ; Though thy wild heart some hapless hour may miss The THE PLEASURES OF HOPE . 91.
... to pour Her blissful visions on thy pensive hour , No tear to blot thy memory's pictured page , No fears but such as fancy can assuage ; Though thy wild heart some hapless hour may miss The THE PLEASURES OF HOPE . 91.
Seite 116
... fear the frowns of Fate ? The highest reward of Virtue is Virtue herself , as the severest punishment of Vice is ... fear to die ; For what , except the instinctive fear Lest she survive , detains me here , When " all the life of life ...
... fear the frowns of Fate ? The highest reward of Virtue is Virtue herself , as the severest punishment of Vice is ... fear to die ; For what , except the instinctive fear Lest she survive , detains me here , When " all the life of life ...
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beneath blazing bleeding blest bliss breathed breeze bright Briton burst calm charm chase child child of Heaven clime clouds deep delight doom dread dream dust earth Fancy Fancy's fate fire fond gaze Genius glows grove hail hand Hark hath heart Heaven heavenly Hindoo hour hues isles life's light lingering live lonely Loxian melancholy mind mingles murmurs Muse native Nature Nature's night o'er pause peace pensive Plato Poem rapture repose rocks round rude sacred SAMUEL ROGERS sapient scenes seraph shade shore sigh silent SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE slumber smile song soothe sorrow soul sphere spirit spring storm sublime sweet tears thee THOMAS CAMPBELL thou thought thoughts inspire thunder trace trembling triumph Truth Twas vale VESPASIAN VIRGIL'S tomb Virtue wandering watch wave weep wheels wild winds wing woes worlds unknown wretch youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 22 - Just tells the pensive pilgrim where it lay. Mute is the bell that rung at peep of dawn, Quickening my truant feet across the lawn; Unheard the shout that rent the noontide air When the slow dial gave a pause to care. Up springs, at every step, to claim a tear, Some little friendship formed and cherished here; And not the lightest leaf, but trembling teems With golden visions and romantic dreams.
Seite 74 - Come, bright Improvement ! on the car of Time, And rule the spacious world from clime to clime; Thy handmaid arts shall every wild explore, Trace every wave, and culture every shore. "On Erie's banks, where tigers steal along, / And the dread Indian chants a dismal song, Where human fiends on midnight errands walk, And bathe in brains the murderous tomahawk, There shall the flocks on...
Seite 61 - AT summer eve, when Heaven's ethereal bow Spans with bright arch the glittering hills below, Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye, Whose sunbright summit mingles with the sky ? Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear More sweet than all the landscape smiling near ?'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
Seite 78 - Yes ! thy proud lords, unpitied land ! shall see That man hath yet a soul— and dare be free ! A little while, along thy saddening plains, The starless night of desolation reigns ; Truth shall restore the light by Nature given, And, like Prometheus, bring the fire of Heaven ! Prone to the dust Oppression shall be hurl'd, Her name, her nature, wither'd from the world...
Seite 108 - Eternal Hope ! when yonder spheres sublime Pealed their first notes to sound the march of Time, Thy joyous youth began — but not to fade. — When all the sister planets have decayed ; When...
Seite 75 - Her whiskered pandoors and her fierce hussars, Waved her dread standard to the breeze of morn, Pealed her loud drum, and twanged her trumpet horn j Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van, Presaging wrath to Poland — and to man ! Warsaw's last champion from.
Seite 77 - Heaven; ere Freedom found a grave, Why slept the sword omnipotent to save? Where was thine arm, O Vengeance! where thy rod, That smote the foes of Zion and of God; That crush'd proud Ammon, when his iron car Was yoked in wrath, and thunder'd from afar?
Seite 43 - Ah ! who can tell the triumphs of the mind, By truth illumined, and by taste refined ? When age has quenched the eye, and closed the ear, Still nerved for action in her native sphere, Oft will she rise — with searching glance pursue Some long-loved image vanished from her view; Dart thro...
Seite 37 - SWEET MEMORY, wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail, To view the fairy haunts of long-lost hours, Blest with far.
Seite 56 - Lighter than air, Hope's summer-visions die, If but a fleeting cloud obscure the sky; If but a beam of sober Reason play, Lo, Fancy's fairy frost-work melts away ! But can the wiles of Art, the grasp of Power, Snatch the rich relics of a well-spent hour? These, when the trembling spirit wings her flight, Pour round her path a stream of living light ; And gild those pure and perfect realms of rest, Where Virtue triumphs, and her sons are blest ! HUMAN LIFE.