The Literary Souvenir, Or, Cabinet of Poetry and Romance

Front Cover
Alaric Alexander Watts
Hurst, Robinson, 1826 - English literature

From inside the book

What people are saying - Write a review

We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 75 - Twixt book and lute the hours divide, And marvel how I e'er could stray From thee — my own fireside ! My own fireside ! Those simple words Can bid the sweetest dreams arise, Awaken feeling's tenderest chords, And fill with tears of joy my eyes. What is there my wild heart can prize That doth not in thy sphere abide, Haunt of my home-bred sympathies, My own — my own fireside...
Page 408 - THE EXCHANGE. WE pledged our hearts, my love and I, — I in my arms the maiden clasping ; I could not tell the reason why, But, oh ! I trembled like an aspen. Her father's love she bade me gain ; I went, and shook like any reed ! I strove to act the man — in vain ! We had exchanged our hearts indeed.
Page 75 - LET others seek for empty joys, At ball, or concert, rout, or play ; Whilst, far from fashion's idle noise, Her gilded domes, and trappings gay, I while the wintry eve away, — 'Twixt book and lute the hours divide ; And marvel how I e'er could stray From thee — my own Fireside! My own Fireside ! Those simple words Can bid the sweetest dreams arise ; Awaken feeling's tenderest chords, And fill with tears of joy...
Page 76 - A babe whose beauty's half divine, In sleep his mother's eyes doth hide ; Where may love seek a fitter shrine Than thou — my own Fireside ? What care I for the sullen roar...
Page 38 - And beautiful, midst that wild scene, Gleam'd up the boy's dead face, Like slumber's, trustingly serene, In melancholy grace. Deep in her bosom lay his head, With half-shut violet eye — He had known little of her dread, Nought of her agony ! Oh ! human love, whose yearning heart Through all things vainly true, So stamps upon thy mortal part Its passionate adieu — Surely thou hast another lot, There is some home for thee, Where thou shalt rest, rememb'ring not The moaning of the sea ! THE TRUMPET.
Page 77 - Hath never made its hated lair By thee — my own Fireside ! Thy precincts are a charmed ring, Where no harsh feeling dares intrude ; Where life's vexations lose their sting ; Where even grief is half subdued : And Peace, the halcyon, loves to brood. Then, let the pampered fool deride...
Page 38 - Oh, human love ! whose yearning heart Through all things vainly true, So stamps upon thy mortal part, Its passionate adieu ! Surely thou hast another lot, There is some home for thee, Where thou shall rest, remembering not The moaning of the sea ! * This circumstance is related of Mrs.
Page 36 - Had vailed her topsails to the sand, And bowed her noble mast. The queenly ship! — brave hearts had striven, And true ones died with her — We saw her mighty cable riven, Like floating gossamer. We saw her proud flag struck that morn, A star once o'er the seas— Her...
Page 36 - We saw her proud flag struck that morn — A star once o'er the seas, — Her anchor gone, her deck uptorn, And sadder things than these...
Page 260 - We are a ruined nation,— a nation on the very verge of bankruptcy, and its attendants, anarchy and confusion; and, instead of things growing better, to every reflecting person it is as plain as that two and two make four, that they will yet be many degrees worse.

Bibliographic information