What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
amber gates angels beauty Bingen blessed bliss blue bosom breast breath bride bright brow child clouds dark dead dear death deep doth dream dying earth Eatonton eyes fade fair flowers forever FRANCES ANNE KEMBLE gates gleam glory gold golden grave gray hand happy hath hear heart heaven hills Homeless hearts hour J. H. NEWMAN Judgment day king kiss life's light lips live lonely LORD BYRON lullaby song moonlight song morning mother murmur N. P. WILLIS ne'er never night o'er peace praise prayer rest Restless hearts Rhine river rose ROSE TERRY COOKE Sabbath scorn shade shine sigh silent sing skies sleep smile soft solemn song sorrow soul stars sweet tears thee thine thou thought toil tone trembling Twas Valley voice Waiting the Judgment waves weary weep wild wind words
Page 255 - Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course ; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again...
Page 94 - I CHATTER over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Page 256 - Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings, The powerful of the earth — the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre.
Page 255 - TO him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Page 29 - Go, lovely rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied. That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, — How...
Page 135 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his droop'd head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won.
Page 347 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress...
Page 257 - So shalt thou rest; and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living, and no friend Take note of thy departure! All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Page 269 - Mysterious Night! when our first parent knew Thee from report divine and heard thy name, Did he not tremble for this lovely frame, This glorious canopy of light and blue ? Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame Hesperus with the host of Heaven came And, lo ! creation widened in man's view.
Page 293 - O'erhang his wavy bed: Now air is hush'd, save where the weak-eyed bat With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn, As oft he rises, 'midst the twilight path Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum...