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Algernon Sydney amaranth at—Thirty-eight beauteous beneath bids Bindwith blest bloom bowers breast brow calm CHARLOTTE SMITH charms church-yard dark dear death deep deplore despair embodied waters eyes fade fair Fancy fate flowers fond Friendship's golden reign grave grove hand happier happy happy flower hear heart heaven hollow hope hopeless hour impart languid Line i2 lingering lyre mournful murmurs Muse myrtle NAIAD native NIGHTINGALE NOVEL OF CELESTINA Nymph o'er Otway pain pale pensive Petrarch pity Pity's poet's poffest regret RIVER ARUN rocks roses round saw thro scene shades sigh smile Sonnet 30 SONNET XLV SONNET XXVII SONNET XXVIII Sonnetto sooth Sorrows of Werter spirit storm stream sweet tears tempest tender thee thine thorns thou Thro thy Otway's thy soft tomb trembling TROM vale vernal vision of delight Volume Second waves wild wild banks wind woods Woolbeding WRITTEN
Page 2 - Queen of the silver bow! by thy pale beam, Alone and pensive, I delight to stray, And watch thy shadow trembling in the stream, Or mark the floating clouds that cross thy way. And while I gaze, thy mild and placid light Sheds a soft calm upon my troubled breast; And oft I think, fair planet of the night, That in thy orb the wretched may have rest; The sufferers of the earth perhaps may go, Released by death, to thy benignant sphere, And the sad children of despair and woe Forget in thee their cup...
Page 44 - With shells and sea-weed mingled, on the shore, Lo ! their bones whiten in the frequent wave ; But vain to them the winds and waters rave ; They hear the warring elements no more : While I am doom'd — by life's long storm opprest, To gaze with envy on their gloomy rest.
Page 18 - O happy age ! when Hope's unclouded ray Lights their green path, and prompts their simple mirth, Ere yet they feel the thorns that lurking lay To wound the wretched pilgrims of the earth, Making them rue the hour that gave them birth, And threw them on a world so full of pain, Where prosperous folly treads on patient worth, And to deaf pride misfortune pleads in vain ! Ah ! for their future fate how many fears Oppress my heart, and fill mine eyes with tears ! • s SONNET.
Page 45 - Sighing, I resign Thy solitary beauties — and no more Or on thy rocks, or in thy woods recline, Or on the heath, by moonlight lingering, pore On air-drawn phantoms...
Page 7 - twill be long ere thou shalt sing anew, And pour thy music on the night's dull ear. Whether on Spring thy wandering flights await, Or whether silent in our groves you dwell, The pensive muse shall own thee for her mate, And still protect the song she loves so well. With cautious step the love-lorn youth shall glide Thro...
Page xvii - Who never learn'd her dear delusive art; Which, while it decks the head with many a rose, Reserves the thorn to fester in the heart. For...
Page xviii - ... mildly blue. No more shall violets linger in the dell, Or purple orchis variegate the plain, Till Spring again shall call forth every bell, And dress with humid hands her wreaths again. Ah, poor humanity ! so frail, so fair Are the fond visions of thy early day, Till tyrant passion and corrosive care, Bid all thy fairy colours fade away. Another May new buds and flowers shall bring : Ah ! why has happiness no second Spring...
Page 5 - Ah ! hills belov'd ! — your turf, your flowers remain ; But can they peace to this sad breast restore; For one poor moment sooth the sense of pain, And teach a breaking heart to throb no more? And you, Aruna! — in the vale below, As to the...
Page 36 - But darker now grows life's unhappy day, Dark with new clouds of evil yet to come ; Her pencil sickening Fancy throws away, And weary Hope reclines upon the tomb, And points my wishes to that tranquil shore, Where the pale spectre Care pursues no more.
Page 77 - And through dark groves of pine around, Down the deep chasms, the snow-fed torrents foam, Within some hollow, shelter'd from the storms, The Peasant of the Alps his cottage forms, And builds his humble, happy home. Unenvied is the rich domain, That far beneath him on the plain, Waves its wide harvests and its olive groves; More dear to him his hut, with plantain thatch'd, Where long his unambitious heart attach'd, Finds all he wishes, all he loves.