Poems. With illustrations, Tema 503

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G. Routledge & Sons, 1873 - 518 páginas

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Página 393 - 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 198 - Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world - with kings, The powerful of the earth - the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre.
Página 482 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths; all these have vanished; They live no longer in the faith of reason.
Página 164 - Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard and the sea, And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free ! The ocean eagle soared From his nest by the white wave's foam ; And the rocking pines of the forest roar'd — This was their welcome home...
Página 163 - 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 202 - We depart, We vanish from the sky ; Ask what is deathless in thy heart, For that which cannot die." Speak then, thou voice of God within, Thou of the deep, low tone ! Answer me, through life's restless din, Where is the spirit flown ? And the voice answer'd — "Be thou still! Enough to know is given ; Clouds, winds, and stars their part fulfil, Thine is to trust in Heaven.
Página 164 - Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land ? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth ; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. 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 436 - Clasp me a little longer on the brink Of fate! while I can feel thy dear caress; And when this heart hath ceased to beat — oh! think, And let it mitigate thy woe's excess, That thou hast been to me all tenderness, And friend to more than human friendship just. Oh! by that retrospect of happiness, And by the hopes of an immortal trust, God shall assuage thy pangs — when I am laid in dust?
Página 350 - TORCHES were blazing clear, Hymns pealing deep and slow, Where a king lay stately on his bier In the church of Fontevraud. Banners of battle o'er him hung, And warriors slept beneath, And light, as noon's broad light, was flung On the settled face of death. On the settled face of death A strong and ruddy glare, Though dimmed at times by the censer's breath, Yet it fell still brightest there : As if each...
Página 168 - HOW could Fancy crown with thee In ancient days the God of Wine, And bid thee at the banquet be Companion of the vine? Thy home, wild plant, is where each sound Of revelry hath long been o'er, Where song's full notes once peal'd around, But now are heard no more.

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