Last Homes of Departed Genius: With Biographical Sketches of Poets, Painters, and Players

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G. Routledge & Sons, 1867 - Počet stran: 304
 

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Strana 280 - CALL it not vain ¡—they do not err, Who say, that when the Poet dies, Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, And celebrates his obsequies : Who say, tall cliff, and cavern lone, For the departed Bard make moan ; That mountains weep in crystal rill ; That flowers in tears of balm distil ; Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, And oaks, in deeper groan, reply; And rivers teach their rushing wave To murmur dirges round his grave.
Strana 67 - CYRIACK, this three years' day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer Right onward.
Strana 222 - A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing, My weary soul they seem to sooth, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Strana 230 - Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary! For could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see? The sun would rise in vain for me, My Mary! Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign; Yet, gently prest, press gently mine, My Mary!
Strana 178 - O vale of bliss! O softly swelling hills! On which the power of cultivation lies, And joys to see the wonders of his toil.
Strana 1 - No: there is a voice from the tomb sweeter than song. There is a remembrance of the dead to which we turn even from the charms of the living.
Strana 211 - This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year : Thine too these golden keys, immortal Boy ! This can unlock the gates of joy ; Of horror that, and thrilling fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.
Strana 172 - Farewell, great painter of mankind ! Who reach'd the noblest point of art, Whose pictured morals charm the mind, And through the eye correct the heart. If Genius fire thee, reader, stay, If nature touch thee, drop a tear, If neither move thee — turn away — For Hogarth's honour'd dust lies here.
Strana 9 - Do, pious marble, let thy readers know What they, and what their children owe To DRAYTON'S name, whose sacred dust We recommend unto thy trust. Protect his memory, and preserve his story : Remain a lasting monument of his glory ; And when thy ruins shall disclaim To be the treasurer of his name, His name that cannot fade shall be An everlasting monument to thee.] " Read ' Ml ' [Michael ?]. 1 Of Anderson's Life.
Strana 263 - There was a strong expression of sense and shrewdness in all his lineaments; the eye alone, I think, indicated the poetical character and temperament. It was large and of a dark cast, which glowed, I say literally glowed, when he spoke with feeling or interest. I never saw such another eye in a human head, though I have seen the most distinguished men of my time.

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