Poetical worksBlackwood, 1858 |
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Page 19
... dead ; And upward when he turns his sight , The unfeeling Sun is shining bright , And strikes him with a sickening light . While a fainting - fit his soul bedims , He thinks that a Ship before him swims , A gallant Ship , all filled ...
... dead ; And upward when he turns his sight , The unfeeling Sun is shining bright , And strikes him with a sickening light . While a fainting - fit his soul bedims , He thinks that a Ship before him swims , A gallant Ship , all filled ...
Page 33
... dead , Dim breaking round a grave . But she thou lovest is at thy side , The Island Queen becomes thy bride , And God and Nature sanctify the vow ; Air , Earth , and Ocean smile once more , VOL . XII . C And along the forest - fringèd ...
... dead , Dim breaking round a grave . But she thou lovest is at thy side , The Island Queen becomes thy bride , And God and Nature sanctify the vow ; Air , Earth , and Ocean smile once more , VOL . XII . C And along the forest - fringèd ...
Page 76
... dead of night it stopped , Even at the moment when a hundred hearts Paused with it suddenly , to beat no more . Yet , wherefore should it run its idle round ? There is no need that men should count the hours Of time , thus standing on ...
... dead of night it stopped , Even at the moment when a hundred hearts Paused with it suddenly , to beat no more . Yet , wherefore should it run its idle round ? There is no need that men should count the hours Of time , thus standing on ...
Page 77
... dead . Wil . It is the Sabbath - day - the day of rest . Frank . O unrejoicing Sabbath ! not of yore Did thy sweet evenings die along the Thames Thus silently ! Now every sail is furled , The oar hath dropt from out the rower's hand ...
... dead . Wil . It is the Sabbath - day - the day of rest . Frank . O unrejoicing Sabbath ! not of yore Did thy sweet evenings die along the Thames Thus silently ! Now every sail is furled , The oar hath dropt from out the rower's hand ...
Page 81
... dead , Queen of the world ! " I asked my awe - struck heart , And not one breath of life amid the silence Disturbed ... dead ! A ship at sea ( Methinks I speak unto a mariner ) Goes to the bottom . Would you hope to find Your friend ...
... dead , Queen of the world ! " I asked my awe - struck heart , And not one breath of life amid the silence Disturbed ... dead ! A ship at sea ( Methinks I speak unto a mariner ) Goes to the bottom . Would you hope to find Your friend ...
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?