The remains of Henry Kirke White [ed.] with an acount of his life by R. Southey

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Page 20 - I'll weave a melancholy song, And sweet the strain shall be, and long The melody of death. Come funeral flower ! who lov'st to dwell With the pale corse in lonely tomb, And throw across the desert gloom A sweet, decaying smell — Come, press my lips and lie with me Beneath the lowly alder tree : And we will sleep a pleasant sleep And not a care shall dare intrude, To break the marble solitude, So peaceful and so deep.
Page 163 - We know whom we have believed, and are persuaded that he is able to keep that which we have committed unto him against that day.
Page 281 - In yonder cot, along whose mouldering walls In many a fold the mantling woodbine falls, The village matron kept her little school, Gentle of heart, yet knowing well to rule; Staid was the dame, and modest was her mien...
Page 73 - Tired of earth And this diurnal scene, she springs aloft Through fields of air, pursues the flying storm, Rides on the vollied lightning through the heavens ; Or, yoked with whirlwinds, and the northern blast, Sweeps the long tract of day.
Page 19 - Come, thou shall form my nosegay now, And I will bind thee round my brow; And as I twine the mournful wreath, I'll weave a melancholy song : And sweet the strain shall be and long, The melody of death.
Page 18 - Sky were not orthodox rhymes, according to his wise creed of criticism, sate down to blast the hopes of a boy, who had confessed to him all his hopes and all his difficulties, and thrown himself upon his mercy. With such a letter before him, (by mere accident I saw that which had been sent to the Critical Review), even though the poems had been bad, a good man would not have said so; he would have avoided censure if he had found it impossible to bestow praise. But that the reader may perceive the...
Page 44 - Catton, with tears in his eyes, and told him that he could not go into the hall to be examined. Mr. Catton, however, thought his success here of so much importance, that he exhorted him, with all possible earnestness, to hold out the six days of the examination.
Page 44 - ... competitor for it. He passed the whole term in preparing himself for this, reading for college subjects in bed, in his walks, or, as he says, where, when, and how he could, never having a moment to spare, and often going to his tutor without having read at all.
Page 35 - Still, rigid Nurse, thou art forgiven, For thou severe wert sent from heaven To wean me from the world ; To turn my eye From vanity, And point to scenes of bliss that never, never die.
Page 50 - London to recruit himself, — th« worst place to which he could have gone : the variety of stimulating objects there hurried and agitated him, and when he returned to College, he was so completely ill, that no power of medicine could save him. His mind was worn out, and it was the opinion of his medical attendants, that if he had recovered, his intellect would have been affected.

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