The Poetical Works of Winthrop Mackworth PraedH. G. Langley, 1844 - 287 pages |
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Page 105
... Vidal lingered still , And kept his fast and wept his fill , Though the wind in the chapel was very chill , And Vidal very weary . Low moaned the bell ; the torch - light fell In fitful and faint flashes ; And he lay on the stones ...
... Vidal lingered still , And kept his fast and wept his fill , Though the wind in the chapel was very chill , And Vidal very weary . Low moaned the bell ; the torch - light fell In fitful and faint flashes ; And he lay on the stones ...
Page 108
... Vidal's very soul did weep Whene'er that music , like a charm , Brought back from their unlistening sleep The kissing lip and clasping arm . But quiet tears are worth , to some , The richest smiles in Christendom ; And Vidal , though in ...
... Vidal's very soul did weep Whene'er that music , like a charm , Brought back from their unlistening sleep The kissing lip and clasping arm . But quiet tears are worth , to some , The richest smiles in Christendom ; And Vidal , though in ...
Page 109
... Vidal had run mad , Or Guy had run away ! Oh ! when a cheek is to be dried , All pharmacy is folly ; And Vidal knew , for he had tried , There's nothing like a rattling ride For curing melancholy ! Three days he rode all mad and mute ...
... Vidal had run mad , Or Guy had run away ! Oh ! when a cheek is to be dried , All pharmacy is folly ; And Vidal knew , for he had tried , There's nothing like a rattling ride For curing melancholy ! Three days he rode all mad and mute ...
Page 111
... Vidal was so fair , You would have thought some god of light Had walked to take the air ; Bare were both his delicate hands , And the hue on his cheek was high , As woman's when she understands Her first fond lover's sigh ; And desolate ...
... Vidal was so fair , You would have thought some god of light Had walked to take the air ; Bare were both his delicate hands , And the hue on his cheek was high , As woman's when she understands Her first fond lover's sigh ; And desolate ...
Page 112
... Vidal came , and bent his knees Before the lady there , And raised his bonnet , that the breeze Might trifle with his hair ; And said , he was a nameless youth , Had learned betimes to tell the truth , Could greet a friend , and grasp a ...
... Vidal came , and bent his knees Before the lady there , And raised his bonnet , that the breeze Might trifle with his hair ; And said , he was a nameless youth , Had learned betimes to tell the truth , Could greet a friend , and grasp a ...
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Common terms and phrases
Abbess abbot Araminta beauty Beneath bliss blue bowers breath bright brow charm cheek clasp Clotilda cold Count Otto courser dance dark Digore dragon dream earth eyes faded fair Fare thee fat friars father fear flings flowers fond frown gazed glance glow gout grew hair half hand hath heard heart heaven hour John Moultrie kiss lady laughed light Lillian lips locks lonely look Lord lover Lurley lute maid maiden minstrel never night Nonny Nonny nought numbers o'er pain pale passion pray prayer quadrille Rhine rose Rossini rove sigh silent sing Sir Harry Sir Isumbras sleep smile song sorrow soul spell steed sweet tail talked tears tell thine thou thought to-day to-night tone tree Troubadour Twas unconscious sleep Vidal voice wake waking eye wander weary ween weep whispered wild wine WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED young youth
Popular passages
Page 221 - If he speaks of a tax or a duty, If he does not look grand on his knees, If he's blind to a landscape of beauty — Hills, valleys, rocks, waters and trees, If he dotes not on desolate towers, If he likes not to hear the blast blow, If he knows not the language of flowers, My own Araminta, say
Page 191 - She smiled on many just for fun, — I knew that there was nothing in it; I was the first, — the only one, Her heart had thought of for a minute. I knew it; for she told me so, In phrase which was divinely moulded; She wrote a charming hand, — and oh!
Page 189 - My mother laughed ; I soon found out That ancient ladies have no feeling : My father frowned ; but how should gout See any happiness in...
Page 220 - If he ever drinks port after dinner, If his brow or his breeding is low, If he calls himself 'Thompson' or 'Skinner', My own Araminta, say 'No!
Page 176 - And warmed himself in court or college, He had not gained an honest friend, And twenty curious scraps of knowledge ;— If he departed as he came, With no new light on love or liquor,— Good sooth, the traveller was to blame, And not the Vicarage, or the Vicar.
Page 75 - And rocks whose very crags seem bowers, So gay they are with grass and flowers. But the Abbot was thinking of scenery, About as much, in sooth, As a lover thinks of constancy, Or an advocate of truth. He did not mark how the skies in wrath Grew dark above his head ; He did not mark how the mossy path Grew damp beneath his tread ; And nearer he came, and still more near, To a pool, in whose recess The water had slept for many a year, Unchanged, and motionless ; From the river stream it spread...
Page 187 - Dark was her hair, her hand was white ; Her voice was exquisitely tender ; Her eyes were full of liquid light ; I never saw a waist so slender ! Her every look, her every smile, Shot right and left a score of arrows ; I thought 'twas Venus from her isle, And wondered where she'd left her sparrows.
Page 74 - Companionless, for a mile or more, He traced the windings of the shore. Oh, beauteous is that river still, As it winds by many a sloping hill, And many a dim o'er-arching grove, And many a flat and sunny cove, And terraced lawns whose bright arcades The honey-suckle sweetly shades, And rocks whose very crags seem bowers, So gay they are with grass and flowers.
Page 221 - No!" He must walk like a god of old story, Come down from the home of his rest; He must smile like the sun in his glory, On the buds he loves ever the best ; And, oh ! from its ivory portal, Like music his soft speech must flow ! — If he speak, smile, or walk like a mortal, My own Araminta, say "No!
Page 179 - At his approach complaint grew mild, And when his hand unbarred the shutter, The clammy lips of fever smiled The welcome which they could not utter. He always had a tale for me Of Julius Caesar or of Venus : From him I learned the rule of three, Cat's cradle, leap-frog, and qua genus; I used to singe his powdered wig, To steal the staff he put such trust in ; And make the puppy dance a jig When he began to quote Augustine.