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This volume consists of Coleridge's translations of The Piccolomini and The Death of Wallenstein, originally written in German by Schiller. Read full review
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Alvar Bathory Bethlen bless brother Casimir cavern child curse dare dark dead dear death doth dream earth Emerick Enter face fair faith fancy father fear feel give Glycine guilt hand hast hath head hear heard heart Heaven honour hope hour Isid Isidore King Kiuprili lady Laska leave light listen live look lord mean mother murder nature never night o'er once Ordonio passed pointing poor pray round SCENE seemed sleep smile soul sound speak spirit stand strange sweet sword tale tears tell Teresa thee thine thing thou thou art thought traitor true truth turned Twas Valdez voice wild wood young youth ZAPOLYA
Page 32 - There was a time when, though my path was rough, This joy within me dallied with distress, And all misfortunes were but as the stuff Whence Fancy made me dreams of happiness : For Hope grew round me, like the twining vine, And fruits, and foliage, not my own, seemed mine.
Page 34 - Tis of the rushing of an host in rout. With groans, of trampled men, with smarting wounds — At once they groan with pain, and shudder with the cold! But hush! there is a pause of deepest silence! And all that noise, as of a rushing crowd, With groans, and tremulous shudderings— all is over — It tells another tale, with sounds less deep and loud! A tale of less affright. And tempered with delight. As Otway's self- had framed the tender lay.
Page 145 - LOVE, HOPE, AND PATIENCE IN EDUCATION. O'EK wayward childhood would'st thou hold firm rule, And sun thee in the light of happy faces ; Love, Hope, and Patience, these must be thy graces, And in thine own heart let them first keep school.
Page 77 - twixt Now and Then ! This breathing House not built with hands, This body that does me grievous wrong, O'er aery Cliffs and glittering Sands, How lightly then it flashed along...
Page 35 - Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing, And may this storm be but a mountain-birth, May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling, Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth! With light heart may she rise, Gay fancy, cheerful eyes, Joy lift her spirit, joy attune her voice : To her may all things live, from Pole to Pole, Their life the eddying of her living soul ! O simple spirit, guided from above, Dear Lady ! friend devoutest of my choice, Thus mayest thou ever, evermore rejoice.
Page 168 - Remorse is as the heart in which it grows : If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews Of true repentance ; but if proud and gloomy, It is a poison-tree, that pierced to the inmost Weeps only tears of poison.
Page 68 - ERE on my bed my limbs I lay, It hath not been my use to pray With moving lips or bended knees ; But silently, by slow degrees, My spirit I to Love compose, In humble Trust mine eye-lids close, With reverential resignation, No wish conceived, no thought expressed ! Only a sense of supplication.
Page 31 - And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth, Of all sweet sounds the life and element ! v. O pure of heart ! thou need'st not ask of me What this strong music in the soul may be. What, and wherein it doth exist, This light, this glory, this fair luminous mist, This beautiful and beauty-making power.
Page 103 - The river Rhine, it is well known, Doth wash your city of Cologne ; But tell me, Nymphs ! what power divine Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine ? ON MY JOYFUL DEPARTURE FROM THE SAME CITY.