The Pleasures of Hope, with Other PoemsLongman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, ... and Doig and Stirling, Edinburgh, 1817 - 136 Seiten |
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Seite 17
... lonely wilds afar , And told the path - a never - setting star : So , heavenly Genius , in thy course divine , HOPE is thy star , her light is ever thine . " Propitious Power ! when rankling cares annoy The sacred home of Hymenean joy ...
... lonely wilds afar , And told the path - a never - setting star : So , heavenly Genius , in thy course divine , HOPE is thy star , her light is ever thine . " Propitious Power ! when rankling cares annoy The sacred home of Hymenean joy ...
Seite 26
... on thymy pasture stray , And shepherds dance at Summer's op'ning day ; Each wandering genius of the lonely glen Shall start to view the glittering haunts of men , And silence watch , on woodland heights around , The 26 PLEASURES OF HOPE .
... on thymy pasture stray , And shepherds dance at Summer's op'ning day ; Each wandering genius of the lonely glen Shall start to view the glittering haunts of men , And silence watch , on woodland heights around , The 26 PLEASURES OF HOPE .
Seite 70
... lonely vale , When Jordan hush'd his waves , and midnight still Watch'd on the holy towers of Zion hill ! Soul of the just ! companion of the dead ! Where is thy home , and whither art thou fled ? Back to its heavenly source thy being ...
... lonely vale , When Jordan hush'd his waves , and midnight still Watch'd on the holy towers of Zion hill ! Soul of the just ! companion of the dead ! Where is thy home , and whither art thou fled ? Back to its heavenly source thy being ...
Seite 79
... lonely hermit in the vale of years ; Say , can the world one joyous thought bestow To Friendship , weeping at the couch of Woe ! No ! but a brighter sooths the last adieu , - Souls of impassion'd mould , she speaks to you ! Weep not ...
... lonely hermit in the vale of years ; Say , can the world one joyous thought bestow To Friendship , weeping at the couch of Woe ! No ! but a brighter sooths the last adieu , - Souls of impassion'd mould , she speaks to you ! Weep not ...
Seite 82
... lonely rank grass waving in the breeze ; Who then will sooth thy grief , when mine is o'er ? Who will protect thee , helpless Ellenore ? Shall secret scenes thy filial sorrows hide , Scorn'd by $ 2 PLEASURES OF HOPE .
... lonely rank grass waving in the breeze ; Who then will sooth thy grief , when mine is o'er ? Who will protect thee , helpless Ellenore ? Shall secret scenes thy filial sorrows hide , Scorn'd by $ 2 PLEASURES OF HOPE .
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
adieu afar ANTISTROPHE Arion BALLIOL COLLEGE beauty Beauty's bleed bliss bosom bowers Brama brave bright Briton brow cease charm charm'd child clime deed deep delight doom'd dread dust dust return earth eternal fate fire fond friendless Gilderoy glow hail hallow'd hand Hark Hast thou hath heart Heaven heavenly Hindoo hour hurl'd isles James Ballantyne life's light lingering lonely Loxian lyre MEDEA Mercy midnight mingles mournful Murder murmur Muse Nature Nature's NOTE numbers o'er pang parricide Peace pensive Plato PLEASURES OF HOPE poor dog Tray Prague proud rapture red dragons ROBERT FINCH sacred sapient scenes seraph shade shalt shore sigh slumber smile song sooth sorrow soul spirit storm strings sublime sweep sweet TAYLOR INSTITUTION tears thee thine trembling triumph Truth twas unfathom'd vale viewless watch wave weep wheels wild winds wing wounded Hussar wrath wretch
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 30 - Departed spirits of the mighty dead ! Ye that at Marathon and Leuctra bled ! Friends of the world ! restore your swords to man, Fight in his sacred cause, and lead the van ! Yet for Sarmatia's tears of blood atone, And make her arm puissant as your own ! Oh ! once again to Freedom's cause return The patriot Tell— the Bruce of Bannockburn...
Seite 28 - Oh, bloodiest picture in the book of Time, Sarmatia fell, unwept, without a crime ; Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe...
Seite 52 - The world was sad! — the garden was a wild! And man, the hermit, sigh'd — till woman smiled!
Seite 70 - Oh ! lives there, Heaven ! beneath thy dread expanse, One hopeless, dark idolater of Chance, Content to feed, with pleasures unrefined, The lukewarm passions of a lowly mind ; Who, mouldering earthward, 'reft of every trust, In joyless union wedded to the dust, Could all his parting energy dismiss, And call this barren world sufficient bliss...
Seite 26 - Peal'd her loud drum, and twang'd her trumpet horn Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van, Presaging wrath to Poland — and to man ! Warsaw's last champion from her height survey'd, Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid, — "O Heaven !" he cried, "my bleeding country save !-•Is there no hand on high to shield the brave?
Seite 20 - Chide not his peace, proud Reason; nor destroy The shadowy forms of uncreated joy, That urge the lingering tide of life, and pour Spontaneous slumber on his midnight hour. Hark!
Seite 73 - This frail and feverish being of an hour ; Doomed o'er the world's precarious scene to sweep, Swift as the tempest travels on the deep, To know Delight but by her parting smile, And toil, and wish, and weep a little while ; Then melt, ye elements, that formed in vain This troubled pulse, and visionary brain ! Fade, ye wild flowers, memorials of my doom, And sink, ye stars, that light me to the tomb...
Seite 24 - Come, bright Improvement ! on the car of Time, And rule the spacious world from clime to clime; L Thy handmaid arts shall every wild explore, Trace every wave, and culture every shore.
Seite 8 - When all is still on Death's devoted soil, The march-worn soldier mingles for 'the toil ; As rings his glittering tube, he lifts on high The dauntless brow, and spirit-speaking eye, Hails in his heart the triumph yet to come, And hears thy stormy music in the drum ! And such thy strength-inspiring aid that bore The hardy Byron to his native shore.
Seite 27 - Heaven ! he cried, my bleeding country save : Is there no hand on high to shield the brave ? Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains, Rise, fellow-men ! our country yet remains ! By that dread name, we wave the sword on high, And swear for her to live ! — with her to die...