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admiration affection appeared beauty benevolence blessings breath called character cheerful child Christian dark daughter death deep delight divine duties early earth Edinburgh Edinburgh Review eloquence England Essays father feel flowers friends genius GEORGE CRABBE GEORGE GORDON BYRON give grace Granville Sharp grave hand happy hath heart heaven Henry Kirke White honor hope hour human Humphry Davy labor lady light literary lived London look Lord Lord Chatham Macbeth mind moral morning nature never night o'er pain Paradise Lost passions peace pleasure poem poet poetry poor praise prayer principles published religion rich Robert Pollok scene Scotland Sir Walter Scott slave slavery smile society song soon sorrow soul spirit sublime sweet talents taste tears thee thine thing thought tion truth virtue voice volume wild wonder writings young youth
Page 540 - The floating clouds their state shall lend To her ; for her the willow bend ; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the Storm Grace that shall mould the Maiden's form By silent sympathy. "The stars of midnight shall be dear To her ; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
Page 444 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread — Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the Rich ! She sang this
Page 543 - THE world is too much with us: late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.
Page 162 - And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail...
Page 604 - Pray, do not mock me ! I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, and, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind. Methinks I should know you, and know this man ; Yet I am doubtful...
Page 540 - SHE was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
Page 444 - Work, work, work! From weary chime to chime ; Work, work, work, As prisoners work for crime : Band and gusset and seam, Seam and gusset and band, Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumbed, As well as the weary hand.
Page 237 - With priest's and warrior's voice between. No portents now our foes amaze, Forsaken Israel wanders lone : Our fathers would not know THY ways, And THOU hast left them to their own. But, present still, though now unseen ! When brightly shines the prosperous day, Be thoughts of THEE a cloudy screen To temper the deceitful ray. And...