The Poetical MelangeG. A. Douglas, 1828 |
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Página 59
... glory of his might , And seemed to mock the ruin he had wrought . As some fierce comet of tremendous size , To which the stars did reverence , as it passed ; So he through learning , and through fancy took His THE POETICAL MELANGE . 59.
... glory of his might , And seemed to mock the ruin he had wrought . As some fierce comet of tremendous size , To which the stars did reverence , as it passed ; So he through learning , and through fancy took His THE POETICAL MELANGE . 59.
Página 63
... glory ! O dear Redeemer ! give me grace To fit me for that happy place ! Thou , when the vault shall claim And God recall my spirit , my dust , Eternal love will be my trust , Insured by Jesus ' merit ; And the triumphant change restore ...
... glory ! O dear Redeemer ! give me grace To fit me for that happy place ! Thou , when the vault shall claim And God recall my spirit , my dust , Eternal love will be my trust , Insured by Jesus ' merit ; And the triumphant change restore ...
Página 67
... glory , remembers his wars , And with mourning of sorrow which never can die , Still honours his name , and is proud of his scars . Immortal with man when mausoleums are rotten , While genius is honoured and conquests enhance , He shall ...
... glory , remembers his wars , And with mourning of sorrow which never can die , Still honours his name , and is proud of his scars . Immortal with man when mausoleums are rotten , While genius is honoured and conquests enhance , He shall ...
Página 72
... glory graced my brow , Whole nations bent before me , Princes and hoary sires would bow To flatter and adore me . To me the widow turned for aid , And ne'er in vain addressed me : For me the grateful orphan prayed , The soul of misery ...
... glory graced my brow , Whole nations bent before me , Princes and hoary sires would bow To flatter and adore me . To me the widow turned for aid , And ne'er in vain addressed me : For me the grateful orphan prayed , The soul of misery ...
Página 85
... glory gilds his sleep , How shall the heart its loss forget ? His very fame must bid it His praises wake regret . weep , His memory in the tears of Greece Shall be embalmed for evermore , And till her tale of troubles cease , His spirit ...
... glory gilds his sleep , How shall the heart its loss forget ? His very fame must bid it His praises wake regret . weep , His memory in the tears of Greece Shall be embalmed for evermore , And till her tale of troubles cease , His spirit ...
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Outras edições - Ver todos
The Poetical Melange. [Compiled by G. A. Douglas.], Volume 2 George A. Douglas Visualização completa - 1828 |
Termos e frases comuns
Anon beam beauty beneath blessed blest bliss bloom bosom bower breast breath bright brow Byron calm charm cheek child clouds cold Cumnor dark dead dear death deep doom dream dust earth eternal fade fair Farewell father fear feel fled flowers frae gazed glory glowing gone grave grief harp hast hath heart heaven Helvellyn hope hour John Malcolm Kilmeny land life's light lisp live lonely look LORD BYRON Mariamne MINSTREL BOY morning mortal mother mountain mourn ne'er never night o'er peace perished band praise prayer rapture rest rose round Samian wine scene seraph shade shed shining book shore sigh silent skies sleep slumber smile song sorrow soul spirit star sweet tears tempest thee thine thou art thought tomb trembling Twas twill vile bands voice wave ween weep wept wild winds wing youth
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 131 - ALL thoughts,' all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve...
Página 24 - Tis now become a history little known, That once we call'd the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession ! but the record fair, That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Página 85 - The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse : Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further west Than your sires'
Página 222 - Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, So sweet, we know not we are listening to it, Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my Thought, Yea, with my Life and Life's own secret joy: Till the dilating Soul, enrapt, transfused, Into the mighty vision passing — there As in her natural form, swelled vast to Heaven.
Página 85 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earned.
Página 37 - Then shook the hills with thunder riven, Then rushed the steed to battle driven, And louder than the bolts of heaven Far flashed the red artillery. But redder yet that light shall glow On Linden's hills of stained snow, And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulph'rous canopy.
Página 166 - Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings.
Página 37 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Página 62 - If aught should tempt my soul to stray From heavenly wisdom's narrow way ; To fly the good I would pursue, Or do the sin I would not do ; Still He, who felt temptation's power, Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.
Página 22 - THAT those lips had language ! Life has passed With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine — thy own sweet smile I see, The same, that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, " Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away...