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adieu age to age antient Bernal Diaz bids birds bless blest blush breast breathe bright Cacique calm CANTO cell charm Cicero clime Columbus controul Cortes courser dark dead deep delight desert shore dream echo Euripides father fear fled fond frown gaze glory glows grove hail hand heart heaven Hence Herodotus Herrera hour human voice hung inspires Jacqueline light live Maximian melt mind murmurs Muse night Note o'er once pensive pleasure Plut rapture repose resigned rise rite round rude sacred sail says scene secret seraph shade shore sigh silent sleep smile song sooth sorrow soul sphere spirit spring steals sung sweet swell tears tempest thee thine thou thought thro trace trembling triumphs truth Twas vales Vespasian Virgil's tomb voice Voyage wake wave weep whence wild wind wings youth Zemi
Page 31 - SWEET MEMORY, wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail, To view the fairy-haunts of long-lost hours, Blest with far greener shades, far fresher flowers.
Page 159 - That breathe a gale of fragrance round, I charm the fairy-footed hours With my loved lute's romantic sound ; Or crowns of living laurel weave, For those that win the race at eve. The shepherd's horn at break of day, The ballet danced in twilight glade, The canzonet and roundelay Sung in the silent green-wood shade ; These simple joys, that never fail, Shall bind me to my native vale.
Page 133 - Sweet drop of pure and pearly light! In thee the rays of Virtue shine ; More calmly clear, more mildly bright, Than any gem that gilds the mine.
Page 63 - Ann Countess Dowager of Pembroke, &c. for a memorial of her last parting, in this place, with her good and pious mother, Margaret, Countess Dowager of Cumberland, on the 2d of April, 1616; in memory whereof she hath left an annuity of 41.
Page 8 - Long may the ruin spare its hallowed guest ! As jars the hinge, what sullen echoes call ! Oh, haste, unfold the hospitable hall ! That hall, where once, in antiquated state, The chair of justice held the grave debate...
Page 124 - Go — you may call it madness, folly ; You shall not chase my gloom away. There's such a charm in melancholy, I would not, if I could, be gay.
Page 52 - When thy last look, ere thought and feeling fled, A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed, What to thy soul its glad assurance gave, Its hope in death, its triumph o'er the grave? The sweet Remembrance of unblemished youth, The still inspiring voice of Innocence and Truth...
Page 21 - The intrepid Swiss, who guards a foreign shore, Condemned to climb his mountain-cliffs no more, If chance he hears the song so sweetly wild Which on those cliffs his infant hours beguiled, Melts at the long-lost scenes that round him rise, And sinks a martyr to repentant sighs.
Page 24 - Hark! the bee winds her small but mellow horn,' Blithe to salute the sunny smile of morn. O'er thymy downs she bends her busy course. And many a stream allures her to its source. Tis noon, 'tis night. That eye so finely wrought, Beyond the search of sense, the soar of thought, Now vainly asks the scenes she left behind; Its orb so full, its vision so confin'd!