Poetical WorksCrosby and Nichols, 1863 |
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Página 21
... breast , and sunk with life alone Oh hearts devoted ! whose illustrious doom Gave there at once your triumph and your tomb Ye , firm and faithful , in the ordeal tried Of that dread strife , by Freedom sanctified ; Shrined , not entomb ...
... breast , and sunk with life alone Oh hearts devoted ! whose illustrious doom Gave there at once your triumph and your tomb Ye , firm and faithful , in the ordeal tried Of that dread strife , by Freedom sanctified ; Shrined , not entomb ...
Página 23
... breast ; And , as the wind's deep thrills and mystic sighs Wake the wild harp to loftiest harmonies , Thus at your influence , starting from repose , Thought , Feeling , Fancy , into grandeur rose . Fair Florence ! queen of Arno's ...
... breast ; And , as the wind's deep thrills and mystic sighs Wake the wild harp to loftiest harmonies , Thus at your influence , starting from repose , Thought , Feeling , Fancy , into grandeur rose . Fair Florence ! queen of Arno's ...
Página 33
... breast , And the stern combat picture to mankind Of suffering nature and enduring mind . Oh , mighty conflict ! though his pains intense Distend each nerve , and dart through every sense ; Though fix'd on him , his children's suppliant ...
... breast , And the stern combat picture to mankind Of suffering nature and enduring mind . Oh , mighty conflict ! though his pains intense Distend each nerve , and dart through every sense ; Though fix'd on him , his children's suppliant ...
Página 40
... lot ? the perfect rest , ' The full deep joy of dying on thy breast , After long - suffering won ? So rich a close To - - o seldom crowns with peace affection's woes . V. Sunset ! -I tell each moment from the skies ( 40 )
... lot ? the perfect rest , ' The full deep joy of dying on thy breast , After long - suffering won ? So rich a close To - - o seldom crowns with peace affection's woes . V. Sunset ! -I tell each moment from the skies ( 40 )
Página 50
... that heavenly So shall their cry have power To win from thee shower Of healing gifts for every wounded ' breast . What griefs that make no sign That ask no aid but thine Father of Mercies ! here before thee swell , As ( 50 )
... that heavenly So shall their cry have power To win from thee shower Of healing gifts for every wounded ' breast . What griefs that make no sign That ask no aid but thine Father of Mercies ! here before thee swell , As ( 50 )
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Términos y frases comunes
art thou beauty BERNARDO DEL CARPIO bird bless thee blue streams bosom bower breast breath breeze bright broken flower brow burning Conradin dark DATURA ARBOREA dead death deep dreams dwell e'en earth fair falchion farewell Father fill'd flowers gaze glance gleam gloom glorious glory glow gone grave green hath heart heaven hills holy hope hour hues hush'd leaves life's light lone look'd lyre midst mighty mirth mournful night o'er pale pass'd pour'd prayer proud rich rills RIVER CLWYD rose round savannas scene shade shadow shed shore shrine silent SILVIO PELLICO skies SKY LARK sleep smile soft soft eyes solemn song soul sound spirit stars strain stream strong sunbeam sweet swell tears thine Thou art Thou hast thought tomb tone unto Visions divine voice wake waves wert wild wind worlds unknown young
Pasajes populares
Página 124 - When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore. Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came; Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame. Not as the flying come, In silence and in fear: — They shook the depths of the desert gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer.
Página 218 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set — but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O death!
Página 185 - O'er each fair sleeping brow, She had each folded flower in sight — Where are those dreamers now? One midst the forests of the West, By a dark stream, is laid ; The Indian knows his place of rest, Far in the cedar shade.
Página 124 - What sought they thus afar ? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war ? They sought a faith's pure shrine. Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod; They have left unstained what there they found,— Freedom to worship God.
Página 161 - Speak, Father!" once again he cried, "If I may yet be gone!" —And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.
Página 114 - Through glowing orchards forth they peep, Each from its nook of leaves, And fearless there the lowly sleep, As the bird beneath their eaves.
Página 161 - The boy ! — oh, where was he ? Ask of the winds, that far around With fragments strewed the sea, — With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, That well had borne their part ; But the noblest thing that perished there, Was that young faithful heart ! THOMAS CAMPBELL.
Página 348 - Far down, and shining through their stillness lies ! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold, Won from ten thousand royal Argosies ! — Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main ; Earth claims not these again.
Página 123 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Página 190 - England's dead. The warlike of the isles, The men of field and wave ! Are not the rocks their funeral piles, The seas and shores their grave ! Go, stranger ! track the deep, Free, free the white sail spread ! Wave may not foam, nor wild wind sweep, Where rest not England's dead.