Sketch of the author's life (p. i-ccxxxii) Shades of the dead. Critical essays. Lecture, on the worth of knowledgeJohn W. Parker, 1848 |
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Strana 335 - And summer's lease hath all too short a date; Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion...
Strana 293 - O but they say the tongues of dying men Enforce attention like deep harmony: Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain. For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain.
Strana 335 - Though I, once gone, to all the world must die; The earth can yield me but a common grave, When you entombed in men's eyes shall lie. Your monument shall be my gentle verse, Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read, And tongues to be your being shall rehearse When all the breathers of this world are dead; You still shall live — such virtue hath my pen — Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
Strana 107 - The brands were flat, the brands were dying, Amid their own white ashes lying ; But when the lady passed, there came A tongue of light, a fit of flame ; And Christabel saw the lady's eye, 160 And nothing else saw she thereby, Save the boss of the shield of Sir Leoline tall, Which hung in a murky old niche in the wall. ' O softly tread,' said Christabel, ' My father seldom sleepeth well.
Strana 104 - Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide...
Strana clv - There is a spirit which I feel, that delights to do no evil, nor to revenge any wrong, but delights to endure all things, in hope to enjoy its own in the end.
Strana 103 - Tis the middle of night by the castle clock, And the owls have awakened the crowing cock; Tu — whit ! Tu — whoo! And hark, again! the crowing cock, How drowsily it crew.
Strana 105 - She kneels beneath the huge oak tree, And in silence prayeth she. The lady sprang up suddenly, The lovely lady, Christabel!
Strana 216 - Of those who at Thermopylae were slain, Glorious the doom, and beautiful the lot; Their tomb an altar : men from tears refrain To honour them, and praise, but mourn them not. Such sepulchre nor drear decay, Nor all-destroying time shall waste; this right have they. Within their grave the home-bred glory Of Greece was laid; this witness gives Leonidas the Spartan, in whose story A wreath of famous virtue ever lives."f § 16.
Strana 110 - tis but the blood so free Comes back and tingles in her feet. No doubt, she hath a vision sweet. What if her guardian spirit 'twere, What if she knew her mother near? But this she knows, in joys and woes, That saints will aid if men will call: For the blue sky bends over all ! PART II Each matin bell, the Baron saith, Knells us back to a world of death.