Midnight musings, poems1832 |
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... tell whether it'was written in Demerara or on Greenland's icy mountains . To this he can only reply , that the Colony , though fertile in every thing else , is barren in incidents for poetical display - not having the haze of antiquity ...
... tell whether it'was written in Demerara or on Greenland's icy mountains . To this he can only reply , that the Colony , though fertile in every thing else , is barren in incidents for poetical display - not having the haze of antiquity ...
Page 12
... tell Of those who in the battle fell- Then mournfully the tones would roll , And shed a gloom upon the soul ; And often would those bards delight To speak of ARTHUR'S fame and might , How when the tide of battle rolled Against his King ...
... tell Of those who in the battle fell- Then mournfully the tones would roll , And shed a gloom upon the soul ; And often would those bards delight To speak of ARTHUR'S fame and might , How when the tide of battle rolled Against his King ...
Page 34
... cause was given again to mourn ; But yet she purposed to remain Within the church's holy fane , Till she could leave this land of woes- Of feeble friends , and mighty foes . But oh , what words may serve to tell The 34.
... cause was given again to mourn ; But yet she purposed to remain Within the church's holy fane , Till she could leave this land of woes- Of feeble friends , and mighty foes . But oh , what words may serve to tell The 34.
Page 35
Midnight musings. But oh , what words may serve to tell The heart's sad thrill , the bosom's swell , That AGNES felt , when she heard first Those awful tidings on her burst ! She had not heard that he was dead- Her hope was he was ...
Midnight musings. But oh , what words may serve to tell The heart's sad thrill , the bosom's swell , That AGNES felt , when she heard first Those awful tidings on her burst ! She had not heard that he was dead- Her hope was he was ...
Page 40
... tell Upon my grief worn strings , My lonely harp with sorrowing swell Would mourn the woes it brings . Then farewell to the sounds of peace , Until in Heaven's choir , In God's high praise my grief will cease , And joy attune my lyre ...
... tell Upon my grief worn strings , My lonely harp with sorrowing swell Would mourn the woes it brings . Then farewell to the sounds of peace , Until in Heaven's choir , In God's high praise my grief will cease , And joy attune my lyre ...
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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 !