The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive Poetry, Volume 2

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Alaric Alexander Watts
Hurst, Chance, and Company, 1829 - English poetry

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Page 16 - THE SISTERS. BY ALARIC A. WATTS. They grew together Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, But yet an union in partition; Two lovely berries moulded on one stem : So with two seeming bodies, but one heart. I SAW them when their bud of life Was slowly opening into flower, Before a cloud of care or strife
Page 189 - press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours. Where are the songs of spring ? Ay, where are they ? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too; While barred clouds bloom the soft dying day, And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows,
Page 67 - whence streams of nectar flow. Bloom, O ye amaranths ! bloom for whom ye may— For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away! With lips unbrightened, wreathless brow, I stroll: And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul ? Work without hope draws nectar in a sieve, And hope without an object cannot live. HART S WELL,
Page 67 - WORK WITHOUT HOPE. LINES COMPOSED ON A DAY IN FEBRUARY. BY ST COLERIDGE, ESQ. ALL nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair— The bees are stirring—birds are on the wing— And Winter slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring! And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Page 243 - Not there, not there, my child!" " Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies?— Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the hreeze, And strange, bright birds, on their starry wings, Bear the rich hues of all glorious things?" —
Page 74 - dark and high; I used to think their slender spires Were close against the sky! It was a childish ignorance,— But now 'tis little joy To know I 'm further off from heaven, Than when I was a boy!
Page 195 - That course, nor Delhi's kingly gates, Nor wild Malwah detain, For sweet the bliss us both awaits, By yonder western main. Thy towers, Bombay, gleam bright, they say, Across the dark blue sea; But ne'er were hearts so light and gay, As then shall meet in thee! DOMESTIC LOVE. DOMESTIC Love! not in proud palace
Page 131 - To drink this last and bitter cup Of grief that man shall taste— Go, tell the night that hides thy face, Thou saw'st the last of Adam's race, On earth's sepulchral clod, The darkening universe defy To quench his immortality, Or shake his trust in God ! SONG.
Page 166 - ere, Which tells me, Youth's no longer here! 0 Youth! for years so many and sweet, 'Tis known that thou and I were one— I 'll think it but a fond conceit; It cannot be that thou art gone! Thy vesper-bell hath not yet
Page 129 - is Mercy bids thee go, For thou ten thousand thousand years Hast seen the tide of human tears, That shall no longer flow. What though beneath thee man put forth His pomp, his pride, his skill; Yet mourn I not thy parted sway, Thou dim discrowned king of day:

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