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affection appear Apple arms beauty become breath bright character comes dark death deep dwelling earth existence face fair fall fear feel flowers follow gaze gentle give grave hand happiness heard heart heaven hope hour human imagination influence interest kind learned least leave less light lips literary LITERARY MAGAZINE living look means meet mind moral morning nature Nescio never night o'er object once passed passion pleasure poetry present principles Pulito pure reader reason rest rich rise scene seemed seen side smile soft soon soul spirit spring star sweet taste tears tell thee thine thing thou thought tion Tristo true truth turned voice waters waves whole winds wish young
Strana 3 - I will not wish unto you the ass's ears of Midas, nor to be driven by a poet's verses (as Bubonax was) to hang himself, nor to be rhymed to death, as is said to be done in Ireland; yet thus much curse I must send you, in the behalf of all poets, that while you live, you live in love, and never get favour for lacking skill of a Sonnet, and, when you die, your memory die from the earth for want of an Epitaph.
Strana 118 - If the spray-bead gem be won, The stain of thy wing is washed away; But another errand must be done Ere thy crime be lost for aye : Thy flame-wood lamp is quenched and dark, — Thou must re-illume its spark. Mount thy steed and spur him high To the heaven's blue canopy; And when thou seest a shooting star, Follow it fast, and follow it far — The last faint spark of its burning train Shall light the elfin lamp again. Thou hast heard our sentence, fay; Hence ! to the water-side, away...
Strana 112 - His is that language of the heart, In which the answering heart would speak, Thought, word, that bids the warm tear start, Or the smile light the cheek ; And his that music, to whose tone The common pulse of man keeps time, In cot or castle's mirth or moan, In cold or sunny clime.
Strana 79 - Wind, gentle ever-green, to form a shade Around the tomb where Sophocles is laid ; Sweet ivy, wind thy boughs, and intertwine With blushing roses and the clust'ring vine : Thus will thy lasting leaves, with beauties hung, Prove grateful emblems of the lays he sung, Whose soul, exalted like a god of wit, Among the Muses and the Graces writ.
Strana 199 - I seem to have lived my childhood o'er again ; To have renewed the joys that once were mine, Without the sin of violating thine : And, while the wings of Fancy still are free, And I can view this mimic show of thee, Time has but half succeeded in his theft — Thyself removed, thy power to soothe me left.
Strana 207 - Now air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat, With short, shrill shriek, flits by on leathern wing; Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn, As oft he rises 'midst the twilight path, Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum : Now teach me, maid composed, To...
Strana 89 - The thing is this. That of all the several ways of beginning a book which are now in practice throughout the known world, I am confident my own way of doing it is the best I'm sure it is the most religious - for I begin with writing the first sentence - and trusting to Almighty God for the second.
Strana 191 - Each passing hour sheds tribute from her wings ;, And still new beauties meet his lonely walk, And loves unfelt attract him. Not a breeze Flies o'er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes The setting sun's effulgence, not a strain From all the tenants of the warbling shade Ascends, but whence his bosom can partake Fresh pleasure, unreproved.
Strana 140 - In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow, Thou'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow; Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen, about thee, There is no living with thee, nor without thee.