PoemsLongman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, 1808 - 185 Seiten |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Allen Brooke Anna arms bade beam beauty beguiled behold bless blest bloom boast bosom breast breath bright Brooke of Windermere brow charms cheek child Corinth cried crowds death deeds delight dread e'en Eudora eyes fame fate father's fear feel fond fondly forget frown gaze gloom glow graceful grief hail haste hear heart Heaven Henry's HINDUSTANI honoured hope hope and fear hour impart Love's lyre maid Memory's mimic line missa mother mourn ne'er negro night o'er ORPHAN BOY pale pang parents passion plaintive Poor Mary Anne poor Zambo praise prayer pride rapture regret Richard Taylor scene seek shine sigh sight smile soft SONG soon sooth sorrow soul sway sweet tale tardy tears tell tender thee thine thou Thou'lt throng THY POOR HINDOO tide tomb trembling triflers virgin's first love voice vould vows wake wave wish
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 154 - Yet sometimes deign, midst fairer maids. To think on her thou leav'st behind. Thy love, thy fate, dear youth, to share Must never be my happy lot; But thou mayst grant this humble prayer, Forget me not, forget me not ! Yet, should the thought of my distress Too painful to thy feelings be, Heed not the wish I now express, Nor ever deign to think on me...
Seite 147 - And see the lighted windows flame ! To force me home my mother sought, She could not bear to see my joy ; For with my father's life 'twas bought, And made me a poor orphan boy. The people's shouts were long and loud, My mother, shuddering, closed her ears ; " Rejoice, rejoice," still cried the crowd, My mother answered with her tears. " Why are you crying thus," said I, " While others laugh and shout with joy?
Seite 148 - Why are you crying thus,' said I, 'While others laugh and shout with joy?' She kissed me — and with such a sigh ! She called me her poor orphan boy. "
Seite 147 - STAY, Lady, stay, for mercy's sake, And hear a helpless Orphan's tale : Ah ! sure my looks must pity wake ; 'Tis want that makes my cheek so pale. Yet I was once a mother's pride, And my brave father's hope and joy ; But in the Nile's proud fight he died — And I am now an orphan boy. Poor foolish child ! how pleased was I, When news of Nelson's victory came, Along the crowded streets to fly, And see the lighted windows...
Seite 148 - And see the lighted windows' flame. To force me home my mother sought, She could not bear to see my joy, For with my father's life 'twas bought, And made me a poor orphan boy. The people's shouts were long and loud; My mother, shuddering, closed her ears; Rejoice, rejoice! still cried the crowd; My mother answered with her tears. " Oh ! why do tears steal down your cheek," Cried I, "while others shout for joy?
Seite 147 - STAY, lady, stay, for mercy's sake, And hear a helpless orphan's tale ; Ah ! sure my looks must pity wake ; 'Tis want that makes my cheek so pale. Yet I was once a mother's pride, And my brave father's hope and joy ; But in the Nile's proud fight he died, And I am now an orphan boy.
Seite 65 - Dey say me should to oders do Vat I vould have dem do to me;.... But, if dey preach and practise too, A negro slave me should not be. 'Missa, dey say dat our black skin Be ugly, ugly to de sight; But surely if dey look vidin, Missa, de negro's heart be vite. 'Yon cocoa-nut no smooth as silk, But rough and ugly is de rind; Ope it, sweet meat and sweeter milk Vidin dat ugly coat ve find. 'Ah missa! smiling in your tear, I see you know what I'd impart; De cocoa husk de skin I vear, De milk vidin be...
Seite 159 - With shutters clos'd, peers faintly thro' the gloom, That slow recedes; But most of it is very bad; and I did not consider it necessary to attempt to revive her merely because she was once taken seriously. Mrs. Opie, wife of the painter and author of The Blind Boy, was another celebrity. Her Lines Respectfully Inscribed to the Society for the Relief of Persons Imprisoned for Small Debts are so characteristic of the time that I wish I had space for them.
Seite 149 - tis to be an orphan boy ! Oh, were I by your bounty fed ! — Nay, gentle lady, do not chide; Trust me, I mean to earn my bread, — The sailor's orphan boy has pride. Lady, you weep : — what is't you say ? You'll give me clothing, food, employ?
Seite 133 - And that the sufferer's bright dilated eye, Like mouldering wood, owes to decay alone " Its wondrous lustre :—ye who still have hoped, Even in death's dread presence, but at length Have heard the summons, (O heart-freezing...