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antient bids bless blest breathe bright charm close Columbus comes dark dead deep delight dream earth face father fear feel fire flowers flows fond frame gaze give glows gold green grove half hand hear heart Heaven Hence hope hour hung inspire leaves light live look lost meet MEMORY mind moves Nature night o'er once passed play pleasure pure rest rise round sacred sail says scene secret seen shade shed shine shore sigh silent sits sleep smile song soon soul speaks spirit spring stood sung sweet swell tears thee thine things thou thought thro trace triumphs truth turn Twas voice wake wandering watch wave weep wild wind wing wish young youth
207. oldal - With hound in leash and hawk in hood, The Boy of Egremond was seen. * Blithe was his song, a song of yore ; But where the rock is rent in two, And the river rushes through...
16. oldal - Venice should blush to hear the Muse relate, When exile wore his blooming years away, To sorrow's long soliloquies a prey, When reason, justice, vainly urged his cause, For this he roused her sanguinary laws ; Glad to return, though Hope could grant no more, And chains and torture hailed him to the shore. And hence the charm historic scenes impart; Hence Tiber awes, and Avon melts the heart.
108. oldal - Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of the old man, and fear thy God : I am the LORD.
87. oldal - Twas thine, Maria, thine without a sigh At midnight in a sister's arms to die. Oh thou wert lovely ; lovely was thy frame, And pure thy spirit as from heaven it came : And when recalled to join the blest above Thou diedst a victim to exceeding love, Nursing the young1 to health.
29. oldal - SWEET MEMORY, wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail, To view the fairy-haunts of long-lost hours, Blest with far greener shades, far fresher flowers. Ages and climes remote to Thee impart What charms in Genius and refines in Art ; Thee, in whose hands the keys of Science dwell, The pensive portress of her holy cell ; Whose constant vigils chase the chilling damp Oblivion steals upon her vestal-lamp.
199. oldal - They stand between the mountains and the sea ; Awful memorials, but of whom we know not ! The seaman, passing, gazes from the deck. The buffalo-driver, in his shaggy cloak, Points to the work of magic and moves on.
38. oldal - Than when the shades of time serenely fall On every broken arch and ivied wall; The tender images we love to trace, Steal from each year a melancholy grace ! And as the sparks of social love expand, As the heart opens in a foreign land; And, with a brother's warmth, a brother's smile, The stranger greets each native of his isle...
175. oldal - Go — you may call it madness, folly ; You shall not chase my gloom away. There's such a charm in melancholy, I would not, if I could, be gay.
217. oldal - MINE be a cot beside the hill ; A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear ; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall shall linger near.
229. oldal - Quaff fragrant nectar from their cups of gold. There shall thy wings, rich as an evening sky, Expand and shut with silent ecstasy ! —Yet wert thou once a worm, a thing that crept On the bare earth, then wrought a tomb and slept. And such is man ; soon from his cell of clay To burst a seraph in the blaze of day ! * At Woburn Abbey.