The poetical works of Howitt, Milman, and Keats: complete in one volume (Google eBook)

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Thomas, Cowperthwait & co. no. 253, Market street., 1840 - 522 pages
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Page 603 - The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead: That is the grasshopper's he takes the lead In summer luxury, he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
Page 433 - The tender and delicate woman among you, which would not adventure to set the sole of her foot upon the ground for delicateness and tenderness...
Page 577 - Of old romance. These let us wish away, And turn, sole-thoughted, to one Lady there, Whose heart had brooded, all that wintry day, On love, and wing'd St. Agnes' saintly care, As she had heard old dames full many times declare. VI. They told her how, upon St. Agnes...
Page 595 - O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shall remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty...
Page 30 - FORASMUCH as it hath pleased Almighty God of his great mercy to take unto himself the soul of our dear brother here departed, we therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust...
Page 578 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon ; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint : She seem'da splendid angel, newly drest, Save wings, for heaven : Porphyro grew faint : She knelt, so pure a thing, so free from mortal taint.
Page 577 - Ah, happy chance! the aged creature came, Shuffling along with ivory-headed wand, To where he stood, hid from the torch's flame, Behind a broad hall-pillar, far beyond The sound of merriment and chorus bland: He startled her; but soon she knew his face, And grasp'd his fingers in her palsied hand, Saying, 'Mercy, Porphyro!
Page 577 - All saints to give him sight of Madeline, But for one moment in the tedious hours, That he might gaze and worship all unseen ; Perchance speak, kneel, touch, kiss in sooth such things have been.
Page 559 - Your lutes, and gentler fate ! We follow Bacchus ! Bacchus on the wing, A conquering! Bacchus, young Bacchus ! good or ill betide, We dance before him thorough kingdoms wide : Come hither, lady fair, and joined be To our wild minstrelsy...
Page 129 - God might have bade the earth bring forth Enough for great and small, The oak-tree and the cedar-tree, Without a flower at all. We might have had enough, enough For every want of ours, For luxury, medicine and toil, And yet have had no flowers.

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