The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed, Volume 2W.J. Widdleton, 1866 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 15
Page 5
... ATHENS • THE ASCENT OF ELIJAH PYRAMIDES ÆGYPTIACÆ · THE PYRAMIDS OF EGYPT IN OBITUM T. F. MIDDLETON , EPISC . CALCUTTENS18 HINDOSTAN EPIGRAMMATON LIBER : ΕΡΩ ΤΕ ΔΗΤΑ Κ ' ΟΥΚ ΕΡΩ . α . ( TRANSLATION OF THE FOREGOING ) . 66 66 SCRIBIMUS ...
... ATHENS • THE ASCENT OF ELIJAH PYRAMIDES ÆGYPTIACÆ · THE PYRAMIDS OF EGYPT IN OBITUM T. F. MIDDLETON , EPISC . CALCUTTENS18 HINDOSTAN EPIGRAMMATON LIBER : ΕΡΩ ΤΕ ΔΗΤΑ Κ ' ΟΥΚ ΕΡΩ . α . ( TRANSLATION OF THE FOREGOING ) . 66 66 SCRIBIMUS ...
Page 278
... no false verse to deck my lying bust , With no fond tear to vex my mould'ring dust , This busy brain may find its grassy shrine , And sleep untroubled in a shade like thine ! ATHENS . * " High towers , faire temples , 278 AUSTRALASIA .
... no false verse to deck my lying bust , With no fond tear to vex my mould'ring dust , This busy brain may find its grassy shrine , And sleep untroubled in a shade like thine ! ATHENS . * " High towers , faire temples , 278 AUSTRALASIA .
Page 279
... ATHENS ! strike thine ancient lute ! Are the strings broken ? is the music mute ? Hast thou no tears to gush , no prayers to flow , Wails for her fate , or curses for her foe ? If ... Athens ! though thy gods are fled , Thy ATHENS . 279.
... ATHENS ! strike thine ancient lute ! Are the strings broken ? is the music mute ? Hast thou no tears to gush , no prayers to flow , Wails for her fate , or curses for her foe ? If ... Athens ! though thy gods are fled , Thy ATHENS . 279.
Page 280
... Athens , thou art lovely yet ! Around thy walls , in every wood and vale , Thine own sweet bird , the lonely nightingale , Still makes her home : and when the moonlight hour Flings its soft magic over brake and bower , Murmurs her ...
... Athens , thou art lovely yet ! Around thy walls , in every wood and vale , Thine own sweet bird , the lonely nightingale , Still makes her home : and when the moonlight hour Flings its soft magic over brake and bower , Murmurs her ...
Page 281
... Athens ! still a holy spell Breathes in the dome , and wanders in the dell , And vanished times and wondrous forms appear , And sudden ATHENS . 281.
... Athens ! still a holy spell Breathes in the dome , and wanders in the dell , And vanished times and wondrous forms appear , And sudden ATHENS . 281.
Contents
353 | |
360 | |
366 | |
373 | |
385 | |
391 | |
397 | |
398 | |
90 | |
97 | |
137 | |
138 | |
144 | |
204 | |
225 | |
231 | |
236 | |
238 | |
244 | |
250 | |
258 | |
329 | |
399 | |
400 | |
401 | |
402 | |
403 | |
404 | |
405 | |
406 | |
407 | |
408 | |
409 | |
410 | |
411 | |
412 | |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Araminta Athens Ball beam beauteous beauty beneath bliss bloom blush Boodle's breast breath bright brow charming cheek cold dance dark dear dream E'en earth EDWARD MORTON Eton eyes face faded fair fame fancy fear FEBRUARY 14 feel filly flowers folly fond forget friends frown Fustian Hall gaze glance glory gout grace grave hair hast hate hath haunted ground head heart Heaven hope hour houris Julius Cæsar Lady laugh Laura light lips look Lord lover lute lyre Marriage mirth Muse never night nymph o'er pain palæstra pale Pindus poor pride quadrille Quince raptures rhyme round scene shine sigh silent sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sweet tale talk tear tell thee thine thou thought throng to-night tomb Valentine's Day voice wandering weep whate'er whispered whist youth γὰρ δὲ ἐν καὶ τε
Popular passages
Page 140 - Alack the change ! in vain I look For haunts in which my boyhood trifled: The level lawn, the trickling brook, The trees 1 climbed, the beds I rifled...
Page 149 - Our love was like most other loves — A little glow, a little shiver, A rosebud and a pair of gloves, And " Fly Not Yet " upon the river ; Some jealousy of some one's heir, Some hopes of dying broken-hearted, A miniature, a lock of hair, The usual vows ; and then we parted.
Page 139 - He was a shrewd and sound Divine, Of loud Dissent the mortal terror ; And when, by dint of page and line, He 'stablished Truth, or startled Error, The Baptist found him far too deep, The Deist sighed with saving sorrow, And the lean Levite went to sleep, And dreamed of tasting pork to-morrow.
Page 148 - She sketched; the vale, the wood, the beach, Grew lovelier from her pencil's shading : She botanized; I envied each Young blossom in her boudoir fading : She warbled Handel ; it was grand ; She made the -Catalani jealous : She touched the organ; I could stand For hours and hours to blow the bellows.
Page 97 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 194 - Remember the thrilling romances We read on the bank in the glen ; Remember the suitors our fancies Would picture for both of us then. They wore the red cross on their shoulder, They had vanquished and pardoned their foe — Sweet friend, are you wiser or colder ? My own Araminta, say 'No!
Page 201 - Ball. I've often been out upon Haldon To look for a covey with pup; I've often been over to Shaldon, To see how your boat is laid up: In spite of the terrors of Aunty, I've ridden the filly you broke; And I've studied your sweet little Dante In the shade of your favourite oak: When I sat in July to Sir Lawrence, I sat in your love of a shawl; And I'll wear what you brought me from Florence, Perhaps, if you'll come to our Ball.
Page 193 - SOU tell me you're promised a lover, My own Araminta, next week ; Why cannot my fancy discover The hue of his coat and his cheek? Alas ! if he look like another, A vicar, a banker, a beau, Be deaf to your father and mother, My own Araminta, say
Page 147 - Little. Through sunny May, through sultry June, I loved her with a love eternal; I spoke her praises to the moon, I wrote them to the Sunday Journal.
Page 222 - Where are my friends? I am alone, No playmate shares my beaker; Some lie beneath the churchyard stone, And some before the Speaker, And some compose a tragedy, And some compose a rondo; And some draw sword for liberty, And some draw pleas for John Doe.