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appear arms beautiful body brought called cause church dead death died door England English entered EPIGRAM eyes face father feel feet fire fish four French gave give given half hand head heart honour hope hour human Italy kind King known lady land late leave length letter light lived London look Lord manner means meet ment mind month morning nature never night observed once passed person poor present received remains respect round says seemed seen sent side soon spirit stone taken tell thing thought tion told took town traveller turned walk whole wife wish young
Seite 83 - She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat, like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.
Seite 267 - I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.
Seite 321 - Yes ! where is he, the champion and the child Of all that's great or little, wise or wild ? Whose game was empires, and whose stakes were thrones ? Whose table earth — whose dice were human bones ? Behold the grand result in yon lone isle, And, as thy nature urges, weep or smile.
Seite 369 - And count the silent moments as they pass : The winged moments, whose unstaying speed No art can stop, or in their course arrest; Whose flight shall shortly count me with the dead, And lay me down in peace with them that rest.
Seite 144 - This night as ye use, Who shall for the present delight here ; Be a king by the lot, And who shall not Be Twelfe-day queene for the night here.
Seite 170 - Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens sail ; The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by. Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Ye died amidst your dying country's cries — No more I weep. They do not sleep. On yonder cliffs, a...
Seite 326 - I feel Him in the gentle showers, The soft south wind, the breath of flowers, The sunshine and the shade. And yet (ungrateful that I am !) I've turned in sullen mood From all these things, whereof He said, When the great whole was finished, That they were
Seite 369 - Farewell, ye blooming fields ! ye cheerful plains ! Enough for me the churchyard's lonely mound, Where Melancholy with still Silence reigns, And the rank grass waves o'er the cheerless ground.