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art thou beauty Bernardo del Carpio bird bless thee blue streams bosom bower breast breath breeze bright bright band broken flower brow burning cheek child Conradin dark DATURA ARBOREA dead death deep dreams dwell e'en earth fair farewell Father fill'd flowers gaze glance gleam gloom glorious glory glow gone grave green grief hath heart heaven hills holy hope hour hues hush'd leaves light lone look'd lyre midst mighty mirth mother mountain night o'er pale pass'd pour'd prayer proud rich rills RIVER CLWYD rose savannas shade shadow shed shore shrine silent SILVIO PELLICO skies SKY LARK sleep smile soft soft eyes solemn song soul sound spirit stars strain stream strong sweet swell tears thine Thou art Thou hast thought tomb tone Unto Visions divine voice wave weep wert wild wind wings woman young
Page 106 - THE stately homes of England, How beautiful they stand ! Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land. The deer across their greensward bound, Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream.
Page 10 - Her lot is on you !— silent tears to weep, And patient smiles to wear through suffering's hour, And sumless riches, from affection's deep, To pour on broken reeds— a wasted shower ! And to make idols, and to find them clay, And to bewail that worship — therefore pray!
Page 112 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Page 242 - Speak, Father!" once again he cried, "If I may yet be gone!" —And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.
Page 109 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set — but all — Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death ! THE LOST PLEIAD.
Page 241 - THE boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but he had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead.
Page 108 - Youth and the opening rose May look like things too glorious for decay, And smile at thee ! - but thou art not of those That wait the ripened bloom to seize their prey.
Page 243 - That weigh'd their dark fringe down, to sit and watch The crimson deepening o'er his cheek's repose, As at a red flower's heart : and where a fount Lay, like a twilight star, midst palmy shades, Making its banks green gems along the wild, There too she...
Page 126 - Pale glistening pearls, and rainbow-coloured shells, Bright things which gleam unrecked of, and in vain. — Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy Sea ! We ask not such from thee. Yet more, the Depths have more ! What wealth untold Far down, and shining through their stillness lies ! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold, Won from ten thousand royal Argosies.1 — Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful Main...
Page 107 - Through glowing orchards forth they peep, Each from its nook of leaves, And fearless there the lowly sleep, As the bird beneath their eaves. The free, fair Homes of England ! Long, long, in hut and hall, May hearts of native proof be reared To guard each hallowed wall! And green for ever be the groves, And bright the flowery sod, Where first the child's glad spirit loves Its country and its God !* THE SICILIAN CAPTIVE.