Beautiful poetry, selected by the ed. of The Critic, Volume 11853 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 100
Page 11
... mountain - top , and by the brink Of sequester'd pools in woodland valleys , Where the slaves of nature stoop to drink ; Not alone in her vast dome of glory , Not on graves of bird and beast alone ; But in old cathedrals , high and ...
... mountain - top , and by the brink Of sequester'd pools in woodland valleys , Where the slaves of nature stoop to drink ; Not alone in her vast dome of glory , Not on graves of bird and beast alone ; But in old cathedrals , high and ...
Page 13
... mountains And the many - voiced fountains , The clearest echoes of the hills , The softest notes of falling rills , The melodies of birds and bees , The murmuring of summer seas , And pattering rain , and breathing dew , And airs ...
... mountains And the many - voiced fountains , The clearest echoes of the hills , The softest notes of falling rills , The melodies of birds and bees , The murmuring of summer seas , And pattering rain , and breathing dew , And airs ...
Page 16
... mountain roses fall ; And fern and adder's - tongue Grow on the old mill - wall . The tarn is on the upland moor , Where not a leaf doth grow ; And through the mountain gashes The merry mill - stream dashes Down to the sea below ; But ...
... mountain roses fall ; And fern and adder's - tongue Grow on the old mill - wall . The tarn is on the upland moor , Where not a leaf doth grow ; And through the mountain gashes The merry mill - stream dashes Down to the sea below ; But ...
Page 17
... mountain waters run ! THE THREE SONS . The author of this exquisite poem is the Rev. THOMAS MOULTRIE , and it was , we believe , a contribution to one of the annuals many years ago . It has been often reprinted in collections of ...
... mountain waters run ! THE THREE SONS . The author of this exquisite poem is the Rev. THOMAS MOULTRIE , and it was , we believe , a contribution to one of the annuals many years ago . It has been often reprinted in collections of ...
Page 34
Beautiful poetry. What though upon her speech there hung The accents of the mountain tongue ; Those silver sounds , so soft , so clear , The list'ner held his breath to hear . A chieftain's daughter seem'd the maid ; Her satin snood ...
Beautiful poetry. What though upon her speech there hung The accents of the mountain tongue ; Those silver sounds , so soft , so clear , The list'ner held his breath to hear . A chieftain's daughter seem'd the maid ; Her satin snood ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Advertisements Advowsons BARRY CORNWALL BEAUTIFUL POETRY beneath bird Blackwood's Magazine blue bower breast breath bright brow calm cheek child CHRISTINA G clouds cold dark dead death deep doth dream earth EBENEZER ELLIOTT Ecclesiastical English language Essex-street eyes fair flowers French Literature gaze gentle golden grave green hast hath heart heaven HERO AND LEANDER hill hour JOHN CROCKFORD land light lips live lonely look look'd moon morn mountain N. P. WILLIS night o'er P. J. BAILEY pale pass'd poem poet postage stamps prayer price 3d rose round Samian wine seem'd shade shadow shine sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stamped stars Strand stream summer sweet tears thee thine things thou art thoughts trees vex'd voice wake waves weep wild wind wings woods young youth
Popular passages
Page 76 - Of aspect more sublime : that blessed mood In which the burthen of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world. Is lightened; that serene and blessed mood. In which the affections gently lead us on, Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul...
Page 190 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Page 52 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Page 367 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore...
Page 5 - All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Page 4 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Page 364 - Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,— " Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, " art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore !" Quoth the Raven,
Page 240 - Ye stars ! which are the poetry of heaven ! If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Of men and empires, — 'tis to be forgiven, That in our aspirations to be great, Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state, And claim a kindred with you ; for ye are A beauty and a mystery, and create In us such love and reverence from afar, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star...
Page 53 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
Page 297 - Look here, upon this picture, and on this, The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. See what a grace was seated on this brow ; Hyperion's curls, the front of Jove himself, An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill ; A combination and a form indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.