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angel bear beneath blue breath breeze bright brow calm cast cold comes Danish dare dark dead dear death deep Denmark distant dreams dwell earth fair fall farewell fate fear feel friends gaze gloom gone grave grief hand Hark hast hath hear heard heart heaven holy hope hour land leave light living look Lord meet midst mind moon mortal ne'er never night o'er ocean's once pale pass past peace poor rays rest rise round scenes seek seem'd seems shine shore side sigh skies sleep smile soft song soon sought soul sound spirit spread stand stars stood strange stray tears tell thee thine thou thoughts tomb Twas voice wander waves wild wind yonder youth
Página 166 - Ah little think the gay licentious proud, Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround; They, who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth, And wanton, often cruel, riot waste; Ah little think they, while they dance along, How many feel, this very moment, death And all the sad variety of pain.
Página 79 - YE Mariners of England ! That guard our native seas ; Whose flag has braved a thousand years The battle and the breeze ! Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe ! And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Página 166 - Shut from the common air, and common use Of their own limbs. How many drink the cup Of baleful grief, or eat the bitter bread Of misery. Sore pierced by wintry winds, How many shrink into the sordid hut Of cheerless poverty.
Página 354 - ... and Charles joined in the ~ prayers which were offered up for the rest of his soul, mingling his tears with those which his attendants shed, as if they had been celebrating a real funeral. The ceremony closed with sprinkling holy water on the coffin in the usual form; and all the assistants retiring, the doors of the chapel were shut. Then Charles rose out of the coffin, and withdrew to his apartment, full of those awful sentiments, which such a singular solemnity was calculated to inspire.
Página 353 - He resolved to celebrate his own obsequies before his death. He ordered his tomb to be erected in the chapel of the monastery. His domestics marched thither in funeral procession, with black tapers in their hands. He himself followed in his shroud. He was laid in his coffin with much solemnity. The service for the dead was chanted, and Charles joined in the prayers which were offered up for the rest of his soul,mingling his tears with those which his attendants shed, as if they had been celebrating...
Página 353 - ... prompted him to aim at something extraordinary, at some new and singular act of piety that would display his zeal, and merit the favour of Heaven. The act on which he fixed was as wild and uncommon as any that superstition ever suggested to a weak and disordered fancy.
Página 278 - And by my sooth,' says Kempion, ' My ain true love, (for this is she,) They surely had a heart o' stane, Could put thee to such misery. O was it warwolf in the wood ? Or was it mermaid in the sea ? Or was it man or vile woman. My ain true love, that mis-shaped thee...
Página 295 - This spectre is said to haunt some old ruins near Flensborg. Two soldiers, long, long ago, were keeping their night-watch on the ramparts of the castle ; one of them left his post for a short time, and when he was gone the other sentry was approached by a tall female figure in white, who accosted him thus : " I am an unblessed spirit, who have wandered here for many hundred years, and have never found rest in the grave.
Página 354 - Disturb my dreams no more. Hush ! let me sleep in peace, and let Me now all earthly things forget, And the crown I lately wore. Hush ! hush ! Ah ! softer, softer yet ; Disturb my dreams no more. Let now my name aside be set, And flattery's words be o'er. Behold ! a corpse I lie, though yet The gates of heaven I have not met. Hush ! hush ! Ah ! softer, softer yet ; Disturb my dreams no more. Hasten, hasten, onwards bear Me now to calm repose. Haste, let my weary bones rest there, Within that vaulted...
Página 353 - His domestics marched in funeral procession, with black tapers in their hands. He himself followed in his shroud. He was laid in his coffin with much solemnity ; the service for the dead was chanted ; and Charles joined in the prayers which were offered up for the rest of his soul, mingling his tears with those which his attendants shed, as if they had been celebrating a real funeral. The ceremony closed with sprinkling holy water on the coffin in the usual form, all the attendants retiring, the...