The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive PoetryAlaric Alexander Watts |
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Page 20
... dear For aught but solitude , was one , it was The portrait of a lovely girl ; the lips Were such as Summer kisses , when he first Touches the pure and rosy mouth of Spring ; A languid smile was on them , as just curled By some soft ...
... dear For aught but solitude , was one , it was The portrait of a lovely girl ; the lips Were such as Summer kisses , when he first Touches the pure and rosy mouth of Spring ; A languid smile was on them , as just curled By some soft ...
Page 40
... dear , ' Till from its splendour , welcomed in at last- Fades all reflection on the gloomy past ! So in its birth glows man's pale beam of life , The spark of sorrow , then the flame of strife- Dazzling awhile , until its glare be spent ...
... dear , ' Till from its splendour , welcomed in at last- Fades all reflection on the gloomy past ! So in its birth glows man's pale beam of life , The spark of sorrow , then the flame of strife- Dazzling awhile , until its glare be spent ...
Page 45
... dear ; Slow , throbbing , cold , I feel thee part ; Long absence plants a pang severe , Or death inflicts a keener dart ; Then for a beam of joy , to light In Memory's sad and wakeful eye ; To banish from the noon of night Her dreams of ...
... dear ; Slow , throbbing , cold , I feel thee part ; Long absence plants a pang severe , Or death inflicts a keener dart ; Then for a beam of joy , to light In Memory's sad and wakeful eye ; To banish from the noon of night Her dreams of ...
Page 51
... dear he is ; flit like a bird before him , — Lead him from tree to tree , from flower to flower ; But be not won , or thou wilt , like that bird When caught and caged , be left to pine neglected , And perish in forgetfulness . Literary ...
... dear he is ; flit like a bird before him , — Lead him from tree to tree , from flower to flower ; But be not won , or thou wilt , like that bird When caught and caged , be left to pine neglected , And perish in forgetfulness . Literary ...
Page 71
... , Is the sweetest in odour and brightest in hue ; So the glance of dear woman most lovely appears , When it beams from her eloquent eye through her tears ! J SAPPHO . She was one Whose Lyre the spirit THE POETICAL ALBUM . 71.
... , Is the sweetest in odour and brightest in hue ; So the glance of dear woman most lovely appears , When it beams from her eloquent eye through her tears ! J SAPPHO . She was one Whose Lyre the spirit THE POETICAL ALBUM . 71.
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Common terms and phrases
BARRY CORNWALL beam beauty beneath bird Blackwood's Magazine bliss bloom blue blush bosom bower breast breath bright brow calm charm cheek clouds dark dead dear death deep dreams earth fade fair Farewell fate feel flame fled flowers gaze gentle GEORGE CROLY gleam gloom glory glow gone grave green grief hast hath heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre hope HORACE SMITH hour kiss life's light lips Literary Gazette London Magazine lonely look LORD BYRON love's loveliness lute lyre morning murmur ne'er never night o'er pale PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY rose round S. T. COLERIDGE scene shade shed shine shore sigh silent sleep slumber smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star storm stream sweet swell tears thee thine thou art thought tomb Twas voice wandering wave weep wild winds wing young youth
Popular passages
Page 95 - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow ! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little hell reck if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him...
Page 95 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
Page 214 - Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France, Charge for the Golden Lilies — upon them with the lance. A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest ; And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a guiding star, Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.
Page 102 - I ARISE from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright. I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Hath led me — who knows how?
Page 214 - D'Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemish count is slain. Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale; The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven mail. And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van, "Remember St. Bartholomew!" was passed from man to man. But out spake gentle Henry, "No Frenchman is my foe: Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go.
Page 89 - Seek out— less often sought than found — A soldier's grave, for thee the best; Then look around, and choose thy ground, And take thy rest.
Page 121 - We have, above ground, seen some strange mutations : The Roman empire has begun and ended, New worlds have risen, we have lost old nations ; And countless kings have into dust been humbled, While not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled.
Page 71 - TRIUMPHAL arch, that fill'st the sky When storms prepare to part, I ask not proud philosophy To teach me what thou art. Still seem, as to my childhood's sight, A midway station given For happy spirits to alight Betwixt the earth and heaven.
Page 126 - The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one spirit meet and mingle. Why not I with thine?
Page 169 - They sin who tell us Love can die, With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity. In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell, Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell ; Earthly these passions of the Earth, They perish where they have their birth ; But Love is indestructible. Its holy flame for ever burneth, From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth...