The Poetical Works of the Late Mrs. Mary Robinson: Including Many Pieces Never Before Published. In Three Volumes, Volume 1R. Phillips, 1806 |
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AGNES ALBERT ALFERENZI beam beauteous bend beneath blast blest bliss blushing bosom bow'r breast breath brow charms cheek cold CONSTANTIA dark death desolating despair divine dread drest DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE E'en ev'ry exulting fade faint fame fancy fate fear fev'rish fiend fire flame flings flow'rs FRANCISCO GENIUS glitt'ring gloom glowing grave heart Heav'n HONORIA hope horror hour LAUREL LEONARDO lone lustre lyre madd'ning magic maid mark'd midst mind mock MONODY MONTALVA mountain mournful MUSE NATURE's night o'er pale pangs pensive Petrarch pity poison'd pow'r pride proud rapture repose ROBERT MERRY ROBINSON round sacred scene shade shine show'rs sigh silv'ry SKIDDAW skies smile soft song soothe sorrow soul steal sublime sweet sword tear thee thee I sing thine thou art thro throbbing throne torpid tow'ring trembling VALMONT Vaucluse virtue wave weep wild winds wing with'ring wond'ring wound wretch
Popular passages
Page 133 - Here we find that listening to the wind, and singing to it, are one and the same thing ; and that— but I can make nothing of the rest. " When in black obtrusive clouds The chilly moon her pale cheek shrouds, I mark the twinkling starry train Exulting glitter in her wane, And proudly gleam their borrow'd llghl To gem the sombre dome of night.
Page 130 - A weeping Wreath, which round my Head Shall by the waning Crescent shine, And light us to our leafy bed. — Yet, ah ! nor leafy beds nor bow'rs Fring'd with soft MAY'S enamell'd flow'rs> Nor pearly leaves, nor Cynthia's beams, Nor smiling Pleasure's shadowy dreams — Sweet BIRD, not e'en THY melting Strains — Can calm the heart where TYRANT SORROW REIGNS. SECOND ODE TO THE NIGHTINGALE. BLEST be thy song, sweet NIGHTINGALE, Lorn minstrel of the lonely vale ! Where oft I've heard thy dulcet strain...
Page 186 - Pluck from their dark and rocky bed The yelling demons of the deep, Who, soaring o'er the comet's head, The bosom of the welkin sweep." " And when the jolly full moon laughs, In her clear zenith to behold The envious stars withdraw their gleams of gold, 'Tis to thy health she stooping...
Page 229 - I'll mark thy sunny dome, and view Thy Caves of Ice* thy fields of dew! Thy ever-blooming mead, whose flow'r Waves to the cold breath of the moonlight hour!
Page 229 - I'll listen to the minstrel's lay, Hymning the gradual close of day ; In caves of ice...
Page 126 - Where'er I find thee, gentle flower, Thou still art sweet and dear to me ; For I have known the cheerless hour, Have seen the sunbeams cold and pale, Have felt the chilling wintry gale, And wept and shrunk like thee ! Charlotte Smith.
Page 15 - O THOU, to whom superior worth's allied, Thy country's honour — and the Muses' pride ; Whose pen gives polish to the varying line That blends instruction with the song divine ; Whose fancy, glancing o'er the hostile plain, Plants a fond trophy o'er the mighty slain...
Page 231 - Shall wake me in ecstatic measures! Far, far removed from mortal pleasures! In cadence rich, in cadence strong, Proving the wondrous witcheries of song! I hear her voice! thy sunny dome, Thy caves of ice, loud repeat, Vibrations, maddening sweet, Calling the visionary wanderer home.
Page 126 - Poor flower ! on thee the sunny beam, No touch of genial warmth bestows ; Except to thaw the icy stream, Whose little current purls along Thy fair and glossy charms among, And whelms thee as it flows.
Page 228 - Of distant breezes, cavern-pent ; Now, ere the twilight tints are flown, Purpling the landscape, far and wide, On the dark promontory's side...