A Year in Europe

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Southern Methodist Pub., 1859 - Europe - 519 pages
 

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Page 116 - The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe; An empty urn within her withered hands, Whose holy dust was scattered long ago; The Scipios...
Page 23 - Boast not thyself of to-morrow; for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth.
Page 43 - Twill trickle to his rival's bier ; O'er PITT'S the mournful requiem sound, And Fox's shall the notes rebound. The solemn echo seems to cry, ' Here let their discord with them die. Speak not for those a separate doom, Whom Fate made Brothers in the tomb ; But search the land of living men, Where wilt thou find their like agen...
Page 205 - Gul in her bloom ; Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute ; Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, In colour though varied, in beauty may vie...
Page 251 - Midst others of less note came one frail form, A phantom among men, companionless As the last cloud of an expiring storm, Whose thunder is its knell.
Page 39 - EARTH has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will:...
Page 459 - Ghost, 21 keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life. ^And of some have compassion, making a difference : ^and others save with fear,*" pulling them out of the fire ; hating even the garment spotted by the flesh.
Page 85 - Italia! oh Italia! thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty, which became A funeral dower of present woes and past, On thy sweet brow is sorrow plough'd by shame, And annals graved in characters of flame. Oh, God! that thou wert in thy nakedness Less lovely or more powerful, and couldst claim Thy right, and awe the robbers back, who press To shed thy blood, and drink the tears of thy distress...
Page 477 - A bard here dwelt, more fat than bard beseems Who, void of envy, guile, and lust of gain, On virtue still, and nature's pleasing themes...
Page 234 - Arcadians thought him Jove ; and said they saw The mighty Thunderer with majestic awe, Who shook his shield, and dealt his bolts around, And scattered tempests on the teeming ground.

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