The Living Authors of England

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D. Appleton & Company, 1849 - 316 oldal

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132. oldal - TIRED Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep ! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where Fortune smiles ; the wretched he forsakes ; Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe, And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.
82. oldal - Of eastern cloud an hour away, But forth one wavelet then another curled, Till the whole sunrise not to be...
53. oldal - THERE is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. Here are cool mosses deep, And thro...
76. oldal - You hardly could suspect — (So tight he kept his lips compressed, Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two.
42. oldal - To-day I saw the dragon-fly Come from the wells where he did lie. "An inner impulse rent the veil Of his old husk : from head to tail Came out clear plates of sapphire mail. "He dried his wings: like gauze they grew: Thro' crofts and pastures wet with dew A living flash of light he flew.
189. oldal - Tis a little thing To give a cup of water ; yet its draught Of cool refreshment, drained by fevered lips, May give a shock of pleasure to the frame More exquisite than when Nectarean juice Renews the life of joy in happiest hours.
241. oldal - Eternity, and some gleam of the latter peering through. 'Highest of all Symbols are those wherein the Artist or Poet has risen into Prophet, and all men can recognise a present God, and worship the same: I mean religious Symbols.
7. oldal - Oh. strange indifference ! low and high Drowsed over common joys and cares ; The earth was still — but knew not why The world was listening, unawares. How calm a moment may precede One that shall thrill the world...
262. oldal - Seven wealthy towns contend for Homer dead, Through which the living Homer begged his bread.
46. oldal - On to God's house the people prest; Passing the place where each must rest, Each enter'd like a welcome guest. One walk'd between his wife and child, With measured footfall firm and mild, And now and then he gravely smiled. The prudent partner of his blood Lean'd on him, faithful, gentle, good, Wearing the rose of womanhood. And in their double love secure, The little maiden walk'd demure, Pacing with downward eyelids pure.

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