Poetical worksBlackwood, 1858 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 61
Page 5
... Close to the prow two figures stand , Their shadows never stir , And fondly as the moon doth rest Upon the Ocean's gentle breast , So fond they look on her . They gaze and gaze till the beauteous orb Seems made for them alone : They ...
... Close to the prow two figures stand , Their shadows never stir , And fondly as the moon doth rest Upon the Ocean's gentle breast , So fond they look on her . They gaze and gaze till the beauteous orb Seems made for them alone : They ...
Page 9
... Close to his heart the silken tresses That hide her softened eyes , Whose heart her heaving bosom meets , And through the midnight silence beats To feel her rising sighs ? Worthy the Youth , I ween , to rest On the fair swellings of her ...
... Close to his heart the silken tresses That hide her softened eyes , Whose heart her heaving bosom meets , And through the midnight silence beats To feel her rising sighs ? Worthy the Youth , I ween , to rest On the fair swellings of her ...
Page 30
... close , When the winds and rain are gone . The self - moved boat appears to seek With gladsome glide a home - like creek , In the centre of a bay , Which the calm and quiet hills surround , And touched by waves without a sound , Almost ...
... close , When the winds and rain are gone . The self - moved boat appears to seek With gladsome glide a home - like creek , In the centre of a bay , Which the calm and quiet hills surround , And touched by waves without a sound , Almost ...
Page 70
... close . And yonder cheek of rosy light , Dark - clustering hair , and star - like eyes , And Fairy - form , that winged with rapture flies , And voice more wild than songstress of the night F'er poured unto the listening skies ; Yon ...
... close . And yonder cheek of rosy light , Dark - clustering hair , and star - like eyes , And Fairy - form , that winged with rapture flies , And voice more wild than songstress of the night F'er poured unto the listening skies ; Yon ...
Page 85
... Close to that churchyard wall My mother's dwelling stands : her bedroom window Looks o'er the gravestones and the marble tombs.— All hope is dead within me . Shall I go Wil . And ask the old man if he knows your mother ? Perhaps ...
... Close to that churchyard wall My mother's dwelling stands : her bedroom window Looks o'er the gravestones and the marble tombs.— All hope is dead within me . Shall I go Wil . And ask the old man if he knows your mother ? Perhaps ...
Common terms and phrases
amid art thou Astrologer beauteous beauty behold beneath Blackwood's Magazine blessed blest bliss bosom breast breath bright calm cheek cheer child clouds dark dead death deep delight doth dreadful dream e'er earth eyes face fair fairy Fairy-Queen fear feel flowers Frank Frankfort gaze gentle gleam glen glide grave grief happy hath hear heart heaven heavenly holy hour hush hymn innocence Isabel Isle Isle of Palms kiss light living lonely look Magd Magdalene Master of Revels mirth morn mortal Morven mother mountains mournful murmuring NAIAD Nature's ne'er night o'er Octavo pale peace Plague prayer Priest rills round sail seems sighs silent sing sleep smile soft solitude song sorrow soul sound spirit stars sunny sweet tears thee thine thou art thought Twas Unimore unto voice walk Walsingham waves ween weep wild wretch
Popular passages
Page 407 - A CLOUD lay cradled near the setting sun ; A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow : Long had I watched the glory moving on, O'er the still radiance of the lake below ; Tranquil its spirit seemed, and floated slow, E'en in its very motion there was rest ; While every breath of eve that chanced to blow, Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west.
Page 16 - Now is the ocean's bosom bare, Unbroken as the floating air ; The ship hath melted quite away, Like a struggling dream at break of day. No image meets my wandering eye, But the new-risen sun and the sunny sky.
Page 231 - ... of thy desert regardless of foes. Thy bold antlers call on the hunter afar, With a haughty defiance to come to the war ! No outrage is war to a creature like thee ! The bugle-horn fills thy wild spirit with glee, As thou bearest thy neck on the wings of the wind, And the laggardly gaze-hound is toiling behind. In the beams of thy forehead that glitter with death — In feet that draw power from the touch of the heath...
Page 228 - Magnificent creature ! so stately and bright ! In the pride of thy spirit pursuing thy flight; For what hath the child of the desert to dread, Wafting up his own mountains that far-beaming head ; Or borne like a whirlwind down on the vale .' — Hail ! king of the wild and the beautiful! — hail! Hail ! idol divine! whom nature hath borne O'er a hundred hill-tops since the mists of the morn, Whom the pilgrim lone wandering on mountain and moor, As the vision glides by him, may...
Page 223 - Those wandering veins of heavenly blue That stray along thy forehead fair, Lost 'mid a gleam of golden hair? Oh, can that light and airy breath Steal from a being doomed to death; Those features to the grave be sent In sleep thus mutely eloquent? Or art thou, what thy form would seem, The phantom of a blessed dream?