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Encyclopaedia of English and American Poetry, from Caedmon and ..., Volume 1
Samuel Orchart Beeton
No preview available - 2012
art thou beauty beneath bloom born bosom breast breath bright brow charms clouds Colonsay dark dead dear death deep delight Died dream earth eyes fair fear flowers fond frae glory grace grave green hand happy hast hath havo hear heard heart heaven hill hope hour king land lassie lifo light live lonely look look'd Lord Lord Byron lovo lyre maid mind morn muse ne'er never night nymph o'er pale poems poet pride rill Rodmond rose round Samian wine scene Scotland seem'd shade shine sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star stream sweet tears tempest thee thine thoir thou thought thoy Twas vale veice velume wave ween weep weleome wero whon wild wind wings youth
Page 64 - Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware ! Beware...
Page 62 - My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky : So was it when my life began ; So is it now I am a man ; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die ! " The child is father of the man ; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
Page 64 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy...
Page 64 - I looked to heaven, and tried to pray; But or ever a prayer had gusht, A wicked whisper came, and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet.
Page 64 - WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With...
Page 64 - Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail : And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river.
Page 62 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Page 61 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Page 64 - Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own; Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And even with something of a Mother's mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely Nurse doth all she can To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man, Forget the glories he hath known, And that imperial palace whence he came. Behold the child among his new-born blisses A sIx years