The Undying One: Sorrows of Rosalie; and Other PoemsC. S. Francis & Company, 1854 - 388 strán (strany) |
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Agnes Strickland agony art thou beam beauty beneath Bingen bitter blue bosom breast breath bright bright eyes brow Brutikin cheek cheerful child cold dark daylight dies dear death deep despair doth dream earth echo ev'n eyes faded faint fair fairy fairy bell fairy bowers farewell fear feel flowers fond gazed gentle glance gone grave grief hand happy happy days hath hear heard heart Heaven hope hour Isbal land light Lilla Vannen Linda lips lone look'd love thee Miriam mournful murmuring neath Neilah never night o'er once pain pale pass'd proud rill rose round sank seem'd sigh silent skies sleep smile soft sorrow soul sound stood sunny sunshine sweet tears thine thou art thought tone tree turn'd Twas vainly voice wake wander watch'd waves weary weep wept wild WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind words young
Populárne pasáže
Strana 227 - Tell my sister not to weep for me, and sob with drooping head, When the troops come marching home again with glad and gallant tread, But to look upon them proudly, with a calm and steadfast eye, For her brother was a soldier, too, and not afraid to die.
Strana 229 - His trembling voice grew faint and hoarse; his grasp was childish weak; His eyes put on a dying look, — he sighed and ceased to speak. His comrade bent to lift him, but the spark of life had fled, — The soldier of the Legion in a foreign land...
Strana 227 - Tell my mother that her other sons shall comfort her old age, For I was still a truant bird, that thought his home a cage, For my father was a soldier, and even as a child My heart leaped forth to hear him tell of struggles fierce and wild ; And when he died and left us to divide his scanty hoard, I let them take whate'er they would, but kept my father's sword, And with boyish love I hung it where the bright light used to shine On the cottage wall at Bingen — calm Bingen on the Rhine.
Strana 216 - OF all the fairest Cities of the Earth None is so fair as FLORENCE. 'Tis a gem Of purest ray; and what a light broke forth, When it emerged from darkness ! Search within, Without ; all is enchantment ! 'Tis the Past Contending with the Present; and in turn Each has the mastery.
Strana 227 - But to look upon them proudly with a calm and steadfast eye, For her brother was a soldier too, and not afraid to die ; And if a comrade seek her love, I ask her in my name, To listen to him kindly, without regret or shame, And to hang the old sword in its place (my father's sword and mine) For the honour of old Bingen, — dear Bingen on the Rhine.
Strana 365 - Was seen by her — that mourning mother; And once she heard his shouting voice— That voice the waves were soon to smother. Wild burst the wind, wide flapped the sail, A crashing peal of thunder followed; The gust swept o'er the water's face, And caverns in the deep lake hollowed. The gust swept past, the waves grew calm, The thunder died along the mountain; But where was he who used to play, . On sunny days, by Mona's fountain ? His cold corpse floated to the shore, Where knelt his lone and shrieking...
Strana 259 - I DO not love thee ! no, I do not love thee ! And yet when thou art absent I am sad ; And envy even the bright blue sky above thee, Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad.
Strana 363 - MONA'S waters are blue and bright When the Sun shines out like a gay young lover ; But Mona's waves are dark as night When the face of heaven is clouded over. The wild wind drives the crested foam Far up the steep and rocky mountain, And booming echoes drown the voice, The silvery voice, of Mona's fountain.
Strana 65 - But he will remember and weep for her yet ! Oh ! while the heart where her head hath lain In its hours of joy, in its sighs of pain ; While the hand which so oft hath been...
Strana 187 - Ah ! then, perchance — but I have heard The last dear tone — the careless word ! Oh ! ye who, meeting, sigh to part, Whose words are treasures to some heart, Deal gently, ere the dark days come, When earth hath but for one a home ; Lest, musing o'er the past, like me, They feel their hearts wrung bitterly, And, heeding not what else they heard, Dwell weeping on a careless word.