The Poetical Work of Mrs. Felicia Hemans, Volume 1 (Google eBook)

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Nathan Whiting, 1828
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Page 217 - I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea.
Page 73 - E'en while with us thy footsteps trod, His seal was on thy brow. Dust to its narrow house beneath ! Soul to its place on high ! They that have seen thy look in death, No more may fear to die.
Page 217 - I have seen A curious Child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped Shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy; for murmurings from within Were heard, - sonorous cadences! whereby, To his belief, the Monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native Sea. Even such a Shell the Universe itself Is to the ear of Faith...
Page 20 - This is man's love ! what marvel ? you ne'er made Your breast the pillow of his infancy; While to the fulness of your heart's glad heavings His fair cheek rose and fell; and his bright hair Waved softly to your breath ! You ne'er kept watch Beside him, till the last pale star had set, And morn, all dazzling, as in triumph broke On your dim weary eye ; not...
Page 20 - There is none, In all this cold and hollow world, no fount Of deep, strong, deathless love, save that within A mother's heart It is but pride, wherewith To his fair son the father's eye doth lurn, Watching his growth.
Page 173 - They have been with me through the dreamy night The blessed household voices, wont to fill My heart's clear depths with unalloy'd delight ! I hear them still, unchanged: though some from earth Are music parted, and the tones of mirth Wild, silvery tones, that rang through days more bright ! Have died in others, yet to me they come, Singing of boyhood back the voices of my home!
Page 221 - And because the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air (where it comes and goes, like the warbling of music) than in the hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that delight, than to know what be the flowers and plants that do best perfume the air.
Page 221 - Portuguese and the Spaniards, peculiar motives seem to increase this feeling; a religious sentiment attaches them to a constellation, the form of which recalls the sign of the faith planted by their ancestors in the deserts of the new world...
Page 221 - It is a time-piece that advances very regularly near four minutes a day, and no other group of stars exhibits, to the naked eye, an observation of time so easily made. How often have we heard our guides exclaim in the savannahs of Venezuela, or in the desert extending from Lima to Truxillo, 'Midnight is past, the Cross begins to bend!
Page 175 - I might hear Once more the music of the mountaineer ! And from the sunny vales the shepherd's strain Floats out, and fills the solitary place With the old tuneful names of Spain's heroic race.

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