The Life and Remains of Henry Kirke White: Of Nottingham: Late of St. John's College, Cambridge

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J.F. Dove, 1827 - English poetry - 455 pages
 

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Page 374 - He bowed the heavens also, and came down : and darkness was under His feet. And He rode upon a cherub, and did fly : yea, He did fly upon the wings of the wind.
Page 100 - BETHLEHEM. 1 WHEN, marshalled on the nightly plain, The glittering host bestud the sky; One star alone of all the train, Can fix the sinner's wandering eye. 2 Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks, From every host, from every gem : But one alone the Saviour speaks ; It is the Star of Bethlehem.
Page 375 - THE Lord descended from above, And bowed the heavens most high ; And underneath his feet he cast The darkness of the sky. 2 On cherub and on cherubim, Full royally he rode ; And on the wings of mighty winds Came flying all abroad.
Page 52 - Winter's sway, And dared the sturdy blusterer to the fight, Thee on this bank he threw To mark his victory. In this low vale, the promise of the year, Serene, thou openest to the nipping gale, Unnoticed and alone, Thy tender elegance. So virtue blooms, brought forth amid the storms Of chill adversity, in some lone walk Of life she rears her head, Obscure and unobserved; While every bleaching breeze that on her blows, Chastens her spotless purity of breast, And hardens her to bear Serene the ills...
Page 174 - And hark ! the wind god, as he flies, Moans hollow in the forest trees, And sailing on the gusty breeze, Mysterious music dies. Sweet flower ! that requiem wild is mine, It warns me to the lonely shrine, The cold turf altar of the dead : My grave shall be in yon lone spot, Where as I lie, by all forgot, A dying fragrance thou wilt o'er my ashes shed.
Page 102 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That had'st thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, —...
Page 131 - 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 376 - Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters, and maketh the clouds his chariot, and walketh upon the wings of the wind.
Page 180 - Come, Disappointment, come! Thou art not stern to me ; Sad Monitress ! I own thy sway, A votary sad in early day, I bend my knee to thee. From sun to sun My race will run, I only bow, and say, My God, thy will be done.
Page 57 - ... Thou broodest on the calm that cheers the lands, And thou dost bear within thine awful hands The rolling thunders and the lightnings fleet, Stern on thy dark-wrought car of cloud, and wind, Thou guid'st the northern storm at night's dead noon, Or on the red wing of the fierce Monsoon, Disturb'st the sleeping giant of the Ind. ' In the drear silence of the polar span Dost thou repose ? or in the solitude Of sultry tracts, where the lone caravan Hears nightly howl the tiger's hungry brood ? Vain...

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