Poetical Sketches: The Profession, the Broken Heart, Etc. : with Stanzas for Music, and Other Poems

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Hurst, Robinson, 1824 - 189 oldal
 

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vii. oldal - Though they as a trifle leave thee, Whose dull thoughts cannot conceive thee, Though thou be to them a scorn, That to nought but earth are born, Let my life no longer be Than I am in love with thee, Though our wise ones call thee madness, Let me never taste of gladness, If I love not thy mad'st fits More than all their greatest wits.
63. oldal - See the wretch, that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigour lost, And breathe and walk again : The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening paradise.
187. oldal - Nothing can be more touching than to behold a soft and tender female, who had been all weakness and dependence, and alive to every trivial roughness while treading the prosperous paths of life, suddenly rising in mental force, to be the comforter and supporter of her husband under misfortune, and abiding, with unshrinking firmness, the bitterest blasts of adversity?
24. oldal - I, too, am changed — I scarce know why ; Can feel each flagging pulse decay, And youth, and health, and visions high, Melt like a wreath of snow away ! Time cannot sure have wrought the ill ; Though worn in this world's sickening strife In soul and form, — I linger still In the first summer month of life ; Yet journey on my path below, — Oh ! how unlike — ten years ago...
iii. oldal - The moving accident is not my trade; To freeze the blood I have no ready arts: 'Tis my delight, alone in summer shade, To pipe a simple song for thinking hearts.
39. oldal - twould almost seem As though, epitomized in one deep beam. Her full collected soul upon the heart, Whate'er its mask, she strove at once to dart: And few may brave the talisman that 's hid 'Neath the dark fringes of her drooping lid.
25. oldal - In soul and form, I linger still In the first summer month of life ; Yet journey on my path below, Oh ! how unlike — ten years ago ! But look not thus : I would not give The wreck of hopes that thou must share, To bid those joyous hours revive, When all around me seemed so fair.
183. oldal - Attired in a splendid dress, and decked with all the jewels of her family and friends, she takes public leave of her acquaintance, visits, on her way to the convent, several other nunneries to be seen and admired by the recluse inhabitants, and even the crowd which collects in her progress follows her with tears and blessings. As she approaches the church of her monastery, the dignified ecclesiastic who is to perform the ceremony, meets the intended novice at the door, and leads her to the altar...
36. oldal - I'm still with thee ! Thy beauty, helplessness, and youth, — Thy hapless fate, untiring truth ; Are spells that often touch the key Of sweet...
26. oldal - Have we not knelt beside his bed, And watched our first-born blossom die? Hoped till the shade of hope had fled, Then wept till feeling's fount was dry? Was it not sweet, in that dark hour, To think, 'mid mutual tears and sighs, Our bud had left its earthly bower, And burst to bloom in Paradise? What to the thought that soothed that woe Were heartless joys — ten years ago?

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