PoemsWiley and Putnam, 1843 - Počet stran: 231 |
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adore ancient ANYTE beauteous beauty Behold beneath Blackwood's Magazine breast breath bride bright charm child CICADA clouds COMPLINE Danaë dark dear death deep didst divine dost doth e'er earth earthly Erinna eyes fair faith fame Father fear feel flowers FRAGMENT fruit glory grace Greece Greek green Harmodius and Aristogeiton hath heart Heaven heavenly HERACLITUS holy honour HYMN INSCRIPTION July light live Locrian Lord MAERO man-the Mary's child Medes Meleager melody memory MYRO nature night nuptial o'er Paraclete POEMS praise pure PUTNAM'S PUBLICATIONS quatrains rhyme rock sacred SAMUEL SEABURY SAPPHO scarce September shine Simonides sing sleep slender smile song SONNET DEDICATORY soon soul spear Spirit stream sweet swift sword tears tender terzet thee thine Thou hast thought thy brother TOMB translations tree unto virgin voice whence whoe'er thou art wild WILEY AND PUTNAM'S WILLIAM AUGUSTUS MUHlenberg wind wings words youth
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Strana 14 - YES ! hope may with my strong desire keep pace, And I be undeluded, unbetrayed ; For if of our affections none find grace In sight of Heaven, then, wherefore hath God made The world which we inhabit ? Better plea Love cannot have, than that in loving thee Glory to that eternal Peace is paid, Who such Divinity to thee imparts As hallows and makes pure all gentle hearts.
Strana 39 - How dazzling flash the streams of colour'd light, When on her sacred brow the crown is placed ! And straight her peers and dames with haughty haste Their coronets assume, as is their right, With sudden blaze making the temple bright. Does man's enthusiasm run to waste, By which a queen's investiture is graced With deafening demonstrations of delight, That from the cannon's roar protect the ear ? We may not dare to think so, for His sake Whose word has link'd king's honour and GOD'S fear. Nor is it...
Strana 37 - WITHIJT the minster's venerable pile What pomps unwonted flash upon our eyes! What galleries, in gold and crimson, rise Between the antique pillars of the aisle, Crowded with England's gayest life ; the while Beneath, her dead, unconscious glory lies ; Above, her ancient faith still seeks the skies; And with apparent life...
Strana 108 - How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, Stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year! My hasting days fly on with full career, But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.