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The Poetical Works of Henry Kirke White (Classic Reprint)
Henry Kirke White
Sin vista previa disponible - 2016
beneath breast breath calm charm cheek clouds cold dark dead dear death deep delight distant dost dreams dying early fair fall fancy fate fear feel fire gale genius give gloom grave hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven HENRY hold hope hour joys KIRKE WHITE leave light live lonely loud lyre memory mind moon morn mortal mother mournful muse nature never night o'er once pale passing peace poems poet poor rest rise round scene shade sigh sight silent sing sleep smile soft song SONNET soon sorrow soul sound spirit storm strain stream studies sweet tear tell thee thine thing thou thought throne turn wandering wave weep wild winds wing woods written youth
Página 215 - How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous, sweet, and fair.
Página 143 - 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...
Página 176 - Come, Disappointment, come ! Not in thy terrors clad ; Come in thy meekest, saddest guise ; Thy chastening rod but terrifies The restless and the bad : But I recline Beneath thy shrine, And round my brow, resign'd, thy peaceful cypress twine.
Página 226 - Deep horror then my vitals froze, Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem ; When suddenly a star arose, — It was the Star of Bethlehem.
Página 177 - What is this passing scene ? A peevish April day, A little sun — a little rain, And then night sweeps along the plain, And all things fade away: Man, soon discussed, Yields up his trust, And all his hopes and fears lie with him in the dust.
Página 224 - Thus while we dwell in this low scene, The Lamb is our unfailing screen ; To him, though guilty, still we run, And God still spares us for his Son.
Página 227 - It was my guide, my light, my all, it bade my dark forebodings cease ; and through the storm and danger's thrall it led me to the port of peace.
Página 126 - ... majestic in the varied swell; Now breathe melodious as the Grecian lyre, Or on the ear in sinking cadence dwell. Romantic sounds ! such is the bliss ye give, That heaven's bright scenes seem bursting on the soul, With joy I'd yield each sensual wish, to live For ever 'neath your undefiled control.