One Hundred Sonnets1851 |
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Página 18
... 'st away , To grieve how gold pollutes , how fetters cramp Body and soul , as if God held no sway , Here thou reviv'st thy hopes , while gleams thy lamp O'er page of moralist or poet's lay . XIV . TO SLEEP . Smile , as I bow 18 SONNETS .
... 'st away , To grieve how gold pollutes , how fetters cramp Body and soul , as if God held no sway , Here thou reviv'st thy hopes , while gleams thy lamp O'er page of moralist or poet's lay . XIV . TO SLEEP . Smile , as I bow 18 SONNETS .
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Henry Frank Lott. XIV . TO SLEEP . Smile , as I bow me to thy shrine , O Sleep ! Weary am I , through climbing labour's hill- Veil up my senses ! -not that I may kill Scorpions of conscience ' neath thy shadows deep , But that , from thy ...
Henry Frank Lott. XIV . TO SLEEP . Smile , as I bow me to thy shrine , O Sleep ! Weary am I , through climbing labour's hill- Veil up my senses ! -not that I may kill Scorpions of conscience ' neath thy shadows deep , But that , from thy ...
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... sleep , with unbreathed fragrance on their lips , And all the laurel - leaves about the lawn Suspended held a jewel at their tips , That glittered into light , where the moon's dawn Met from the cedar - trees with no eclipse . XX . 2 ...
... sleep , with unbreathed fragrance on their lips , And all the laurel - leaves about the lawn Suspended held a jewel at their tips , That glittered into light , where the moon's dawn Met from the cedar - trees with no eclipse . XX . 2 ...
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... sleeping here profound That monitory voice unheeded falls- No note of shortened life their sense appals , In dull forgetfulness for ever drown'd . This scene , how eloquent it seems of death ! Hush'd every sound that speaks of busy day ...
... sleeping here profound That monitory voice unheeded falls- No note of shortened life their sense appals , In dull forgetfulness for ever drown'd . This scene , how eloquent it seems of death ! Hush'd every sound that speaks of busy day ...
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... sleep ; and now retire Campbell's last relics to yon holy fane : Rogers , and Moore , and Wordsworth but remain Of that inimitably tuneful choir That made our language as it were a lyre , Struck by the Passions , through their varied ...
... sleep ; and now retire Campbell's last relics to yon holy fane : Rogers , and Moore , and Wordsworth but remain Of that inimitably tuneful choir That made our language as it were a lyre , Struck by the Passions , through their varied ...
Términos y frases comunes
Adieu amid aught Bard beauteous flower beauty behold blessing breast breath bright brow calm charm cheer CHRYSANTHEMUMS daisy dandy poets dear deep delight didst dost dream dwell e'er ENDYMION fading Fancy feel fragrance gaze gleam hand happy harp hath hear heart Heaven holy hope hour humble HUNDRED SONNETS idolatry iron heel labour Life's light light from Heaven lips LONDON lone love song lyre manly Medway melodious memory memory's mind moan morn Muse ne'er neath night nought o'er Oppression's passion path peace poet poet's pride PRINTED BY WILLOUGHBY pure Romeo and Juliet round scenes scorn selfish sentiment Shine sleep smile SMITHFIELD sorrow soul Spring sublime sweet sympathy tears temples tender thee thine thou Thou'lt thoughts that elevate throng thy spirit toil tones touching strain trifling truth tyrants unto vale veil voice warble warm wearied wild WILLOUGHBY AND CO wing wisp woke yearn'd
Pasajes populares
Página 30 - As age accumulates upon thy brow, And all thine energies become less warm, Securely rest on my more vigorous arm, — Time the protectorship reverses now. If, by God's blessing, health and strength allow, My toil shall comfort thee ; secure from harm, No dread of want thy last days shall alarm, Nor workhouse insolence thy spirit bow.
Página 30 - God's blessing, health and strength allow, My toil shall comfort thee ; secure from harm, No dread of want thy last days shall alarm, Nor workhouse insolence thy spirit bow. Mother, though dim thine eye, yet many a day, While blithe I sported, didst thou toil for me Along no path of flowers, but a rude way, Beset with hardship and with poverty.
Página 28 - Warm from my bosom in a gushing flood My best affections still to thee incline ; Thy breast has been to me a holy shrine Where love unselfish, glowing gratitude, With all that makes us kind, or leaves us good, In one unchanging sentiment combine. I hold naught dearer than thy power to bless, As o'er the varied scenes of life I rove — Not e'en the warm impassionate caress Meeting or parting with the maid I love : A mother's love ! while I such boon possess, I scarce would change my state with saints...
Página 7 - Withjoy,that thou thy watchdidst safely keep. Samaritan of life ! with pitying smile, When tired nature fails upon the road, Thou giv'st thy blessing to the sons of toil, Loos'ning the bandage of their wearying load : Though gold may win it not by chaffering wile, Unasked upon contentment 'tis bestowed.
Página 28 - I. Mother ! thou know'st how truly I am thine By ties of sympathy as well as blood ; Warm from my bosom, in a gushing flood, My best affections still to thee incline ; Thy breast has been to me a holy shrine, Where love unselfish, glowing gratitude, With all that makes us kind, or leaves us good, In one unchanging sentiment combine. I hold naught dearer than thy power to bless, As o'er the varied scenes of life I rove — Not e'en the warm, impassionate caress, Meeting or parting with the maid I...
Página 29 - ... Untiring, eager, generous, and true, Thy tenderness did with my years keep pace, Seeking all sorrow from my brow to chase, And holding truth and virtue up to view. Thanks ! grateful thanks ! I have not all deserved, I plead me guilty to a wayward will ; Tet thou didst chide so mildly when I swerved, That 1 returned to love thee better still ; Thy warning counsel has my spirit nerved, And proved an antidote to many an ill. As age accumulates upon thy brow, And all thine energies become less warm,...
Página 80 - ... movings of the Muse's powers ? Nay. For the sunlight that gilds up the towers Of princes — in the sheltered lane reveals The beauty of the primrose, — and unseals Phials of fragrance in the violet's bowers. For Poetry can glad, illume, sustain, And dignify the humblest heart she sways : And though the world the trifles may disdain, Still dear unto the Poet are his lays. And whoso seeketh shall not seek in vain, For joys abundant in her pleasant ways.