A Woman's Memories of World-known Men, Band 1

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Seite 261 - In all her length far winding lay, With promontory, creek, and bay, And islands that, empurpled bright, Floated amid the livelier light ; And mountains, that like giants stand, To sentinel enchanted land.
Seite 129 - I AM not one who much or oft delight To season my fireside with personal talk, Of friends, who live within an easy walk, Or neighbours, daily, weekly, in my sight : And, for my chance-acquaintance, ladies bright, Sons, mothers, maidens withering on the stalk, These all wear out of me, like forms with chalk Painted on rich men's floors, for one feast-night Better than such discourse doth silence long, Long, barren silence, square with my desire...
Seite 72 - WHEN Time, who steals our years away, Shall steal our pleasures too, The memory of the past will stay, And half our joys renew.
Seite 162 - Ne'er tell me of glories serenely adorning The close of our day, the calm eve of our night : — Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of Morning, Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best light.
Seite 108 - The snow-drop, and then the violet, Arose from the ground with warm rain wet, And their breath was mixed with fresh odour, sent From the turf, like the voice and the instrument. Then the pied wind-flowers and the tulip tall, And narcissi, the fairest among them all, Who gaze on their eyes in the stream's recess, Till they die of their own dear loveliness...
Seite 164 - With golden key Wealth thought To pass — but 'twould not do : While Wit a diamond brought, Which cut his bright way through. So here's to her who long Hath waked the poet's sigh, The girl who gave to song . What gold could never buy.
Seite 129 - And, for my chance-acquaintance, ladies bright, Sons, mothers, maidens withering on the stalk, These all wear out of me, like Forms, with chalk Painted on rich men's floors, for one feast-night. Better than such discourse doth silence long, Long, barren silence, square with my desire ; To sit without emotion, hope, or aim, In the loved presence of my cottage-fire, And listen to the flapping of the flame, Or kettle whispering its faint undersong. "Yet life...
Seite 247 - The wounds I might have healed ! The human sorrow and smart ! And yet it never was in my soul To play so ill a part : But evil is wrought by want of Thought, As well as want of Heart...
Seite 213 - The lovely toy, so fiercely sought, Had lost its charm by being caught,

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