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The Young Lady's Book of Elegant Poetry: Comprising Selections From the ...
Author of the Young Man's Own Book
Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2018
ANNA SEWARD ANON art thou beams beauty beneath birds bless bloom blossoms blue Bluebottle bower breast breath breeze bright brow buds calm charm cheek child clouds dark dear death deep delight dream earth eternal eternal magazine fair father feel flowers friends gaze gentle gleams glory glow golden grace Granada grave grief happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven hope hour J. G. LOCKHART Lady Last eve light lips living daylight lonely look look'd lovelier maid MARY HOWITT Moorish morn mother mountains murmuring Naiad Nature's ne'er Neath night o'er pale Pale flowers peace rill rose round shade shed shine sigh silent sister skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought throne tree Twas vale voice waves waves Dance weep wild wind wing youth
18. oldal - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge ; And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deafning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes ? Canst thou, O partial sleep!
97. oldal - While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont, And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve! While Summer loves to sport Beneath thy lingering light : While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves, Or Winter, yelling through the troublous air, Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes.
97. oldal - Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still The pensive Pleasures sweet, Prepare thy shadowy car.
300. oldal - Jura, whose capt heights appear Precipitously steep ; and drawing near, There breathes a living fragrance from the shore, Of flowers yet fresh with childhood; on the ear Drops the light drip of the suspended oar, Or chirps the grasshopper one good-night carol more; LXXXVII.
229. oldal - THOU art, O God, the life and light Of all this wondrous world we see; Its glow by day, its smile by night, Are but reflections caught from thee; Where'er we turn, thy glories shine. And all things fair and bright are thine!
101. oldal - And harmless serpents lick the pilgrim's feet. The smiling infant in his hand shall take The crested basilisk and speckled snake, Pleased, the green lustre of the scales survey, And with their forky tongue shall innocently play.
108. oldal - Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods, that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay, So thou, with sails how swift, hast reached the shore 'Where tempests never beat nor billows roar,' And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life long since has anchored by thy side.
100. oldal - Be smooth, ye rocks ; ye rapid floods, give way ! The Saviour comes, by ancient bards foretold ! Hear him, ye deaf, and all ye blind, behold ! He from thick films shall purge the visual ray, And on the sightless eye-ball pour the day. 'Tis He th' obstructed paths of sound shall clear, And bid new music charm th' unfolding ear: The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch forego, And leap exulting like the bounding roe.
96. oldal - O'erhang his wavy bed: Now air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn, As oft he rises, 'midst the twilight path Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum...
113. oldal - They sin who tell us Love can die. With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity. In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell, Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell; Earthly these passions of the Earth, They perish where they have their birth ; But Love is indestructible. Its holy flame for ever burneth, From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth...