The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive Poetry, Volume 2 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 5
Page 31
It was a harp just fit to pour Its music to the wind and wave ; He had a right to tell
their fame , Who stood himself amid the brave . The first time that I read his strain
There was a tempest on the sky , And sulphurous clouds , and thunder crash ...
It was a harp just fit to pour Its music to the wind and wave ; He had a right to tell
their fame , Who stood himself amid the brave . The first time that I read his strain
There was a tempest on the sky , And sulphurous clouds , and thunder crash ...
Page 44
and , purple and bright , Bursts on the billows the flushing of light ; O'er the glad
waves , like a child of the sun , See the tall vessel goes gallantly un ; Full to the
breeze she unbosoms her sail , And her pennon streams onward , like hope , in
the ...
and , purple and bright , Bursts on the billows the flushing of light ; O'er the glad
waves , like a child of the sun , See the tall vessel goes gallantly un ; Full to the
breeze she unbosoms her sail , And her pennon streams onward , like hope , in
the ...
Page 133
... images dire ;Wild winds and mad waves drive the vessel a - wreckThe masts
fly in splinters — the shrouds are on fire ! ... Mercy to save ;Unseen hands of
spirits are ringing his knell , And the death - angel flaps his broad wing o'er the
wave !
... images dire ;Wild winds and mad waves drive the vessel a - wreckThe masts
fly in splinters — the shrouds are on fire ! ... Mercy to save ;Unseen hands of
spirits are ringing his knell , And the death - angel flaps his broad wing o'er the
wave !
Page 263
Yet not for a brighter your skies I resign , When my wandering footsteps revisit the
Rhine ; But sacred to me , is the roar of the wave That mingles its tide with the
blood of the brave , Where blasts of the trumpet for battle combine , And the heart
...
Yet not for a brighter your skies I resign , When my wandering footsteps revisit the
Rhine ; But sacred to me , is the roar of the wave That mingles its tide with the
blood of the brave , Where blasts of the trumpet for battle combine , And the heart
...
Page 383
The pastoral music of the bleating flock , Blent with the sea - bird's uncouth
melody ; The waves ' deep murmur to the ' unheeding rock ... Glad hearts are
there , and joyous hands once more Weary the whitening wave with their
returning oar !
The pastoral music of the bleating flock , Blent with the sea - bird's uncouth
melody ; The waves ' deep murmur to the ' unheeding rock ... Glad hearts are
there , and joyous hands once more Weary the whitening wave with their
returning oar !
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Contents
1 | |
12 | |
24 | |
30 | |
36 | |
41 | |
49 | |
56 | |
62 | |
69 | |
75 | |
81 | |
89 | |
95 | |
102 | |
109 | |
122 | |
129 | |
136 | |
142 | |
153 | |
268 | |
274 | |
311 | |
322 | |
328 | |
334 | |
340 | |
347 | |
353 | |
359 | |
367 | |
373 | |
379 | |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
bear beauty beneath blue bower breast breath bright brow charms cheek child close clouds cold dark dead dear death deep dream earth face fading fair fall fear feel fire flowers friends gaze gentle glow grave green grief hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour king land leave life's light lips Literary Souvenir living lonely look morn ne'er never night o'er once pain pale passed past rest rock rose round scene seemed seen shade shore sigh silent sleep smile soft song soon soul sound spirit spring star stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thou art thought tree turn voice wandering waters wave weep wild wind wings wood young youth
Popular passages
Page 223 - Beyond the flight of time, Beyond this vale of death, There surely is some blessed clime, Where life is not a breath ; Nor life's affections transient fire, Whose sparks fly upward...
Page 221 - Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers...
Page 89 - All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair — The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing — And Winter slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring! And I the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Page 208 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Page 202 - THE boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but him had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck, Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm ; A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though child-like form.
Page 221 - To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Page 155 - ALL worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, The Sun himself must die, Before this mortal shall assume Its immortality ! I saw a vision in my sleep, That gave my spirit strength to sweep Adown the gulf of Time ! I...
Page 203 - The boy — oh ! where was he ? Ask of the winds, that far around With fragments strewed the sea ! With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, That well had borne their part — But the noblest thing that perished there, Was that young, faithful heart.
Page 156 - Go, let oblivion's curtain fall Upon the stage of men. Nor with thy rising beams recall Life's tragedy again: Its piteous pageants bring not back, Nor waken flesh, upon the rack Of pain anew to writhe; Stretched in disease's shapes abhorred, Or mown in battle by the sword, Like grass beneath the scythe.
Page 84 - No more of talk where God or angel guest With man, as with his friend, familiar used To sit indulgent, and with him partake Rural repast...