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admiration appeared beauty born breath called character CHARLOTTE SMITH Christian critic dark daughter death delight died divine early earth Edinburgh Edinburgh Review edition England English Essays eyes fame fancy father feel flowers friends genius glory grace grave hand happy hath heart heaven Henry Kirke White HERBERT KNOWLES honor hope hour human JOHN WOLCOT labor language Leigh Hunt light literary literature lived London look Lord Lord Byron Macbeth MARY TIGHE Milton mind moral morning nature never night o'er pain passion pleasure poem poet poetical poetry poor praise prayer published rich Robert Pollok scene Scotland sleep smile song soon sorrow soul spirit style sublime sweet talents taste tears thee thine thing thou thought tion truth University of Edinburgh virtue voice volumes wonder writings young youth
Page 97 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet or in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him.
Page 121 - Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown. For the Angel of Death...
Page 428 - THE world is too much with us: late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.
Page 539 - Nay, not so," Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerly still ; and said, " I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.
Page 125 - SHE walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies ; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes : Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Page 122 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gather'd then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush!
Page 80 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
Page 218 - Ye Ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? GOD! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, GOD!
Page 428 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.