Poems, Volume 1Wiley and Putnam, 1846 - 229 pages |
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Page vii
... GOLDEN LE- GEND OF MISS KILLMANSEGG ( all of extraordinary merit ) , we will confine our extracts to two minor pieces , with which our readers may be less acquainted . There is , in the first , a sentiment so touching and so universal ...
... GOLDEN LE- GEND OF MISS KILLMANSEGG ( all of extraordinary merit ) , we will confine our extracts to two minor pieces , with which our readers may be less acquainted . There is , in the first , a sentiment so touching and so universal ...
Page 11
... golden ' lection of the topmost trees , And opes the splendid fissures of the morn . When do his fruits delay , when doth his corn Linger for harvesting ? Before the leaf Is commonly abroad , in his pil'd sheaf The flagging poppies lose ...
... golden ' lection of the topmost trees , And opes the splendid fissures of the morn . When do his fruits delay , when doth his corn Linger for harvesting ? Before the leaf Is commonly abroad , in his pil'd sheaf The flagging poppies lose ...
Page 18
... golden visions for thy dower , While I this midnight vigil keep , And bless thee in thy silent bower ; To me ' tis sweeter than the power Of sleep , and fairy dreams unfurl'd , That I alone , at this still hour , In patient love ...
... golden visions for thy dower , While I this midnight vigil keep , And bless thee in thy silent bower ; To me ' tis sweeter than the power Of sleep , and fairy dreams unfurl'd , That I alone , at this still hour , In patient love ...
Page 19
... golden zone , — Cloud doth never shade him , Nor a storm invade him , On his joyous throne . So when I behold me In an orb as bright , How thy soul doth fold me In its throne of light ! Sorrow never paineth , Nor a care attaineth , To ...
... golden zone , — Cloud doth never shade him , Nor a storm invade him , On his joyous throne . So when I behold me In an orb as bright , How thy soul doth fold me In its throne of light ! Sorrow never paineth , Nor a care attaineth , To ...
Page 40
... golden glow , Like Iris just bedabbled in her bow , Besides some vocalists , without a name , That oft on fairy errands come and go , With accents magical ; —and all were tame , And peckled at my hand where'er I came . VI . And for my ...
... golden glow , Like Iris just bedabbled in her bow , Besides some vocalists , without a name , That oft on fairy errands come and go , With accents magical ; —and all were tame , And peckled at my hand where'er I came . VI . And for my ...
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Common terms and phrases
beauty billows bird bloom blue breast breath bright bright eyes Brooklets brow cheeks churl Circe cloud cold cowslip dark dead dear death deep dost dream drown'd earth elfin elves English poetry Eugene Aram Ev'n eyes face faint fair fairy fairy ring fancy fears flow'rs gaze gentle gloom golden green grey grief hair hand hath heart heav'n hollow kiss Leander leaves light lily lips living locks looks Love's LYCUS magic marble Meanwhile melancholy moon morn Naiad ne'er never night o'er pale pearls pity pluck'd poison'd poor Puck quoth raining music rich Robin Goodfellow rose Rotterdam round Saturn shade shadows shine sighs silence sing skies sleep smiles solemn song sorrow soul stamp'd Stept stream summer sweet tears tender thee thing THOMAS HOOD thought trees trembling turn'd vext voice warm wave weep Wherefore Wherein Whilst wild wind wings
Popular passages
Page 3 - WE watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about, As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied—- We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died. For when the morn came, dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed — she had Another morn than ours.
Page 145 - The swallows all have wing'd across the main ; But here the Autumn melancholy dwells, And sighs her tearful spells Amongst the sunless shadows of the plain. Alone, alone, Upon a mossy stone, She sits and reckons up the dead and gone, With the last leaves for a love-rosary...
Page 135 - Beneath the stroke, and even find Some sugar in the cane ! The Arabian Nights rehearsed in bed ! The Fairy Tales in school-time read, By stealth, 'twixt verb and noun ! The angel form that always...
Page 215 - Thy taws are brave ! — thy tops are rare ! Our tops are spun with coils of care, Our dumps are no delight ! — The Elgin marbles are but tame, And 'tis at best a sorry game To fly the Muse's kite ! Our hearts are dough, our heels are lead, Our topmost joys fall dull and dead, Like balls with no rebound ! And often with a faded eye We look behind, and send a sigh Towards that merry ground ! Then be contented. Thou hast got The most of heaven in thy young lot...
Page 134 - Twas paper'd o'er with studious themes, The tasks I wrote — my present dreams Will never soar so high ! My joys are wingless all and dead ; My dumps are made of more than lead ; My flights soon find a fall ; My fears prevail, my fancies droop, Joy never cometh with a hoop, And seldom with a call ! My...
Page vii - FAREWELL life ! my senses swim, And the world is growing dim : Thronging shadows cloud the light, Like the advent of the night — Colder, colder, colder still, Upward steals a vapor chill ; Strong the earthy odor grows — I smell the mould above the rose ! Welcome life ! the spirit strives ! • Strength returns and hope revives; Cloudy fears and shapes forlorn Fly like shadows at the morn, — O'er the earth there comes a bloom ; Sunny light for sullen gloom, Warm perfume for vapor cold — I...
Page 170 - Be lapp'd in alien clay and laid below ; It is not death to know this, — but to know That pious thoughts, which visit at new graves In tender pilgrimage, will cease to go So duly and so oft, — and when grass waves Over the past-away, there may be then No resurrection in the minds of men.
Page 145 - On panting wings through the inclement skies, Lest owls should prey Undazzled at noonday, And tear with horny beak their lustrous eyes. Where are the blooms of Summer ? — In the west, Blushing their last to the last sunny hours. When the mild Eve by sudden Night is prest Like tearful Proserpine, snatch'd from her flow'rs To a most gloomy breast.
Page 173 - THERE is a silence where hath been no sound, There is a silence where no sound may be, In the cold grave — under the deep, deep sea...
Page 133 - When that I was a tiny boy My days and nights were full of joy, My mates were blithe and kind ! No wonder that I sometimes sigh, And dash the tear-drop from my eye, To cast a look behind ! FAIR INES.