Midnight musings, poems1832 |
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Page 1
... by winds unstirred- Not even yet the hunter's horn Upon the morning breeze is borne .. The gentle murmur of the stream That glides like pleasure in a dream , Cau scarce be said the calm to break That reigns AGNES DE CLIFFORD. ...
... by winds unstirred- Not even yet the hunter's horn Upon the morning breeze is borne .. The gentle murmur of the stream That glides like pleasure in a dream , Cau scarce be said the calm to break That reigns AGNES DE CLIFFORD. ...
Page 3
... dreams Return in all the pomp they wore In all the loveliness of yore- Ere life's dark storms , its clouds and tears , Had dimmed the glory of his years— Ere thoughts of sorrow , or of crime , Were blended with his hopes sublime . And ...
... dreams Return in all the pomp they wore In all the loveliness of yore- Ere life's dark storms , its clouds and tears , Had dimmed the glory of his years— Ere thoughts of sorrow , or of crime , Were blended with his hopes sublime . And ...
Page 8
... dreaming- One look of love from my heart's worshipped star ; Thro ' paths of danger , a heart - stricken ranger , For one word from thee I have wandered thus far . The lover that's weary , feels nothing so dreary As unheeded to wait on ...
... dreaming- One look of love from my heart's worshipped star ; Thro ' paths of danger , a heart - stricken ranger , For one word from thee I have wandered thus far . The lover that's weary , feels nothing so dreary As unheeded to wait on ...
Page 28
... dreams in sleep the foe defied : Oh wake them not - this rest to - night Shall nerve them for the morrow's fight- Oh wake them not from placid sleep , Unstirred by trump or gun ; For them how many hearts shall weep- No further vigil ...
... dreams in sleep the foe defied : Oh wake them not - this rest to - night Shall nerve them for the morrow's fight- Oh wake them not from placid sleep , Unstirred by trump or gun ; For them how many hearts shall weep- No further vigil ...
Page 73
... on a couch , within a darkened room , A thin and wasted form asleep reclined , Worn with disease , yet feeling little pain ; His cheek was slightly flushed — it was not health , G But o'er his fleeting soul , perchance , a dream 73.
... on a couch , within a darkened room , A thin and wasted form asleep reclined , Worn with disease , yet feeling little pain ; His cheek was slightly flushed — it was not health , G But o'er his fleeting soul , perchance , a dream 73.
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Common terms and phrases
AGNES amid anguish arrayed ARTHUR balmy banner battle beam beauty beneath bitter bloom breast breathe bright bring brow calm cheek cheer CLIFFORD's CLIFFORD's tower clouds dark death decay deep delight DEMERARA dew-drops DIRGE E'en early earth fade faint fairy falchions fame farewell feelings flowers gallant band gaze gentle gladness gloom glory grief hath heard Heaven holy hopes laurel wreath life's light lonely look of love lour lyre maiden rest mem'ry merry England mirth moonlight morning mourn neath night o'er ocean pain pale path peace perchance perfume placid plain pleasures pow'r pride pure Queen reigns reigns o'er rill scene seems shed shine shone silent sleep smile sorrow soul spirit splendour star strife tears thee thine thou thoughts thro Tis sweet tomb transient vale vanished VESPER HOUR visage voice wake warrior weary ween wings withered young heart youth
Popular passages
Page 59 - OFT, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me ; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken ; The eyes that shone, Now dimm'd and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken ! Thus, in the stilly night...
Page 67 - Scarce seen, but with fresh bitterness imbued ; And slight withal may be the things which bring Back on the heart the weight which it would fling Aside for ever : it may be a sound — A tone of music, — summer's eve — or spring, A flower — the wind — the Ocean — which shall wound, Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound ; XXIV.
Page 48 - Twere now to be most happy, for I fear My soul hath her content so absolute That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate.
Page 56 - O, that the slave had forty thousand lives ! One is too poor, too weak for my revenge. Now do I see 'tis true. Look here, lago ; All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven : 'Tis gone. Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell ! Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne To tyrannous hate ! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught, For 'tis of aspics
Page 89 - Where the wicked cease from troubling And the weary are at rest !