Bay Leaves

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Archibald Constable, 1824 - 160 páginas
 

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Página 12 - All heaven and earth are still— though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most; And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep...
Página 89 - O king of clouds ! The sailor on his airy shrouds, When wrecks and beacons strew the steep, And spectres walk along the deep. Milder yet thy snowy breezes Pour on yonder tented shores, Where the Rhine's broad billow freezes, Or the dark-brown Danube roars.
Página 42 - Go, Henry, go not back, when I depart, The scene thy bursting tears too deep will move, Where my dear father took thee to his heart, And Gertrude thought it...
Página 30 - The Ivy round some lofty pile Its twining tendril flings ; Though fled from thence be pleasure's smile, It yet the fonder clings ; As lonelier still becomes the place The warmer is its fond embrace, More firm its verdant rings ; As if it loved its shade to rear O'er one devoted to despair. Thus shall my bosom cling to thine, Unchanged by gliding years ; Through Fortune's rise, or her decline, In sunshine, or in tears ; And, though between us oceans roll, And rocks divide us, still my soul Shall feel...
Página 73 - Think not because the eye is bright, and smiles are laughing there, The heart that beats within is light, and free from pain and care ; A blush may tinge the darkest cloud, ere Sol's last rays depart, And underneath the sunniest smile may lurk the saddest heart. Mirth's sudden gleam may light the cheek though joy be...
Página 28 - Think not, beloved ! time can break The spell around us cast ; •Or absence from my bosom take The memory of the past : My love is not that silvery mist.
Página 31 - O'er one devoted to despair. , Thus shall my bosom cling to thine, Unchanged by gliding years; Through Fortune's rise, or her decline, In sunshine or in tears : And though between us oceans roll, And rocks divide us, still my soul Can feel no jealous fears, Confiding in a...
Página 119 - A blight had, in his transit, sent , But other, earthlier joys had gone, And left their foot-prints as they went. Sighing, as through the shadowy Past, Like a tomb-searcher, Memory ran, Lifting each shroud that Time had cast O'er buried hopes, he thus began : — FIRST ANGEL'S STORY.
Página 87 - O'er which the green boughs wave, In sleep without a thought he lays his head : Ah ! cruel Love ! at this dark, silent hour, Thou wak'st to trace, and with redoubled power, The voice, the step, the air Of her, who scorns thy chain, and flies thy fatal snare. And in some sheltered bay, at evening's close, The mariners their rude coats round them fold, Stretched on the rugged plank in deep repose : But I, though...
Página 71 - I'll think on't. [Exit. SCENE II. A Room, with a Banquet. ISABELLA. Time lags, and slights his duty. I remember The days when he would fly. How sweet they were ! Then I rebuked his speed, and now — and now I drench his wing with tears. How heavily The minutes pass. Can he avoid mo ? Oh ! I almost wish — and yet that must not be.

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