The Poetical Works of Winthrop Mackworth PraedH. G. Langley, 1844 - 287 pages |
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Page 21
... pale lid : - : - Why doth he start from the sight it hid ? He hath seen in the dim and fitful ray , That the light of the soul hath gone away ! Sigh nor prayer he uttered there , In mute and motionless despair , But he laid him down ...
... pale lid : - : - Why doth he start from the sight it hid ? He hath seen in the dim and fitful ray , That the light of the soul hath gone away ! Sigh nor prayer he uttered there , In mute and motionless despair , But he laid him down ...
Page 22
... light of her eye so boldly obscure , And the hue of her cheek so pale and pure ! Reason and thought she had never known , Her heart was as cold as a heart of stone ; So you might guess from her eyes ' dim rays 22 PRAED'S POEMS .
... light of her eye so boldly obscure , And the hue of her cheek so pale and pure ! Reason and thought she had never known , Her heart was as cold as a heart of stone ; So you might guess from her eyes ' dim rays 22 PRAED'S POEMS .
Page 46
... Whether the voice be sad or gay , " T were very hard for the Count to say ; But pale are his cheeks and pained his brow , And the boat drifts on he reeks not how ; His pulse is quick and his heart is wild , 46 PRAED'S POEMS .
... Whether the voice be sad or gay , " T were very hard for the Count to say ; But pale are his cheeks and pained his brow , And the boat drifts on he reeks not how ; His pulse is quick and his heart is wild , 46 PRAED'S POEMS .
Page 55
... pale and pensive brow : " Henceforth my spirit may not sleep , As ever till now it slept ; Henceforth mine eyes have learned to weep , As never till now they wept . Twelve months , dear Otto , let me grieve For my own , my childhood's ...
... pale and pensive brow : " Henceforth my spirit may not sleep , As ever till now it slept ; Henceforth mine eyes have learned to weep , As never till now they wept . Twelve months , dear Otto , let me grieve For my own , my childhood's ...
Page 61
... pale creature's countenance ; Unconsciously her white hand flings Its soft touch o'er the answering strings ; The good man starts with a sudden thrill , And half relents from his purposed will ; But he signs the cross on his aching brow ...
... pale creature's countenance ; Unconsciously her white hand flings Its soft touch o'er the answering strings ; The good man starts with a sudden thrill , And half relents from his purposed will ; But he signs the cross on his aching brow ...
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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.