Phantasmion (Google eBook)

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William Pickering, 1837 - 387 pages
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Page 141 - Nor feel the breeze that round thee lingering strays, To drink thy balmy breath, And sigh one long farewell. Soon shall it mourn above thy wat'ry bed, And whisper to me, on the wave-beat shore, Deep murm'ring in reproach, Thy sad untimely fate. Ere those dear eyes had open'd on the light, In vain to plead, thy coming life was sold, O...
Page 68 - Shoots through my veins a keen and liquid flame. That melts each fibre of my wasting frame. One voice alone, one voice alone, I pine to hear ; But, when its meek mellifluous tone Usurps mine ear, Those slavish chains about my soul are wound, Which ne'er, till death itself, can be unbound. One gentle hand, one gentle hand, I fain would hold ; But, when it seems at my command, My own grows cold ; Then low to earth I bend in sickly swoon, Like lilies drooping 'mid the blaze of noon.
Page 189 - Then shall mine eyes shoot youthful fire. My cheek with triumph glow, And other maids that glance desire, Which I on one bestow. Make her with smile divinely bland Beam sunshine o'er my face, And Time shall touch with gentlest hand What she hath deigned to grace ; O'er scanty locks full wreaths I'll wear ; No wrinkled brow to shade, For joy will smooth the furrows there, Which earlier griefs have made. Though sports of youth be tedious toil, When youth has pass'd away, I'll cast aside the martial...
Page 236 - HE came unlook'd for, undesir'd A sun-rise in the northern sky : More than the brightest dawn admir'd, To shine and then for ever fly. His love, conferr'd without a claim, Perchance was like the fitful blaze. Which lives to light a steadier flame, And, while that strengthens, fast decays. Glad fawn along the forest springing, Gay birds that breeze-like stir the leaves, Why hither haste, no message bringing, To solace one that deeply grieves ? Thou star that dost the skies adorn So brightly heralding...
Page 94 - What form'd the spell I ne'er could tell, But subtle must its working be, Since, from the hour I felt its pow'r, No fairer face I wish to see. Light-wing'd Zephyr, ere he settles On the loveliest flower that blows, Never stays to count thy petals, Dear, delicious, fragrant Rose ! Her features bright elude my sight, I know not how her tresses lie ; In fancy's maze my spirit plays, When she with all her charms is nigh.
Page 189 - False Love, too long thou hast delay'd, Too late I make my choice ; Yet win for me that precious maid, And bid my heart rejoice Then shall mine eyes shoot youthful fire, My cheek with triumph glow, And other maids that glance desire Which I on one bestow. Make her with smile divinely bland Beam sunshine o'er my face, And Time shall touch with gentlest hand What she hath...
Page 157 - ... sky, Which, when rude gales are sweeping by. Desert the lake. Of late I saw thee in a dream ; The day-star pour'd his hottest beam, And thou, a cool refreshing stream, Did'st brightly run : The trees where thou wert pleased to flow, Threw out their flowers, a glorious show, While I, too distant doomed to grow, Pined in the sun. By no life-giving moisture fed, A wasted tree, I bow'd my head, My sallow leaves and blossoms shed On earth's green breast : And silent pray'd the slumbering wind, The...
Page 61 - Fann'd by gales which they have made Sweet with their perfuming ; Primrose tufts impearl'd with dew ; Bells which heav'n has steep'd in blue Lend the breeze their odours too, All around thee blooming. None shall come to scare thy dreams, Save perchance the playful gleams ; Wake to quaff the cooling streams Of the sunlit river ; Thou across the faithless tide Needest not for safety glide, Nor thy...
Page 240 - YON changeful cloud will soon thy aspect wear. So bright it grows: and now, by light winds shaken, O, ever seen, yet ne'er to be o'ertaken! Those waving branches seem thy billowy hair. The cypress glades recall thy pensive air; Slow rills that wind like snakes amid the grass, Thine eyes...
Page 248 - I WAS a brook in straitest channel pent, Forcing 'mid rocks and stones my toilsome way, A scanty brook in wandering well-nigh spent ; But now with thee, rich stream, conjoin'd I stray, Through golden meads the river sweeps along, Murmuring its deep full joy in gentlest undersong. I crept through desert moor and gloomy glade, My waters ever vex'd, yet sad and slow, My waters ever steep'd in baleful shade : But...

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