Poetical worksBlackwood, 1858 |
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Page 3
... sails amid the loveliness Like a thing with heart and mind . Fit pilgrim through a scene so fair Slowly she beareth on ; A glorious phantom of the deep , Risen up to meet the Moon . The Moon bids her tenderest radiance fall On her wavy ...
... sails amid the loveliness Like a thing with heart and mind . Fit pilgrim through a scene so fair Slowly she beareth on ; A glorious phantom of the deep , Risen up to meet the Moon . The Moon bids her tenderest radiance fall On her wavy ...
Page 4
... sails amid the still moonlight At the dreaming soul's command ? A vessel borne by magic gales , All rigged with gossamery sails , And bound for Fairyland ? Ah ! no ! -an earthly freight she bears , Of joys and sorrows , hopes and fears ...
... sails amid the still moonlight At the dreaming soul's command ? A vessel borne by magic gales , All rigged with gossamery sails , And bound for Fairyland ? Ah ! no ! -an earthly freight she bears , Of joys and sorrows , hopes and fears ...
Page 5
... sail : And oft an eager crowd will stand With straining gaze on the Indian strand , Thy wonted gleam to hail . For thou art laden with Beauty and Youth , With Honour bold and spotless Truth , With fathers , who have left in a home of ...
... sail : And oft an eager crowd will stand With straining gaze on the Indian strand , Thy wonted gleam to hail . For thou art laden with Beauty and Youth , With Honour bold and spotless Truth , With fathers , who have left in a home of ...
Page 6
... sails , and radiant shrouds . Fair creature ! Thou dost seem to be Some wandering spirit of the sea , That dearly loves the gleam of sails , And o'er them breathes propitious gales . Hither thou comest , for one wild hour , With him thy ...
... sails , and radiant shrouds . Fair creature ! Thou dost seem to be Some wandering spirit of the sea , That dearly loves the gleam of sails , And o'er them breathes propitious gales . Hither thou comest , for one wild hour , With him thy ...
Page 10
... sailing sky . And thus hath he learned to wake the lyre , With something of a bard - like fire ; Can tell in high impassioned song , Of worlds that to the Bard belong , And , till they feel his kindling breath , To others still and dark ...
... sailing sky . And thus hath he learned to wake the lyre , With something of a bard - like fire ; Can tell in high impassioned song , Of worlds that to the Bard belong , And , till they feel his kindling breath , To others still and dark ...
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?