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.
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...
52. oldal - ; And all at once they sang, " Our island home Is far beyond the wave ; we will no longer roam.
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.
52. oldal - And taste, to him the gushing of the wave Far far away did seem to mourn and rave On alien shores...
76. oldal - Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy: 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.
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.
82. oldal - All service ranks the same with God: If now, as formerly he trod Paradise, his presence fills Our earth, each only as God wills Can work — God's puppets, best and worst, Are we; there is no last nor first.
137. oldal - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.

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