PoemsCharles Tilt, 1835 - 182 pàgines |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 21.
Pàgina
... fame , I bring not laurel wreaths - for they are thine : - My humble chaplet has but simple flowers , Buds of the heath and greenwood , to entwine The Bard's immortal name.- -Yet spurn them not- For , oh ! more fragile than their tend ...
... fame , I bring not laurel wreaths - for they are thine : - My humble chaplet has but simple flowers , Buds of the heath and greenwood , to entwine The Bard's immortal name.- -Yet spurn them not- For , oh ! more fragile than their tend ...
Pàgina
... fame , : - I bring not laurel wreaths - for they are thine : - My humble chaplet has but simple flowers , Buds of the heath and greenwood , to entwine The Bard's immortal name . - Yet spurn them not- For , oh ! more fragile than their ...
... fame , : - I bring not laurel wreaths - for they are thine : - My humble chaplet has but simple flowers , Buds of the heath and greenwood , to entwine The Bard's immortal name . - Yet spurn them not- For , oh ! more fragile than their ...
Pàgina 10
... fame , How many gallant deeds have borne his name ! As toward Egypt's strand his glad bark flew , And tow'ring fanes rose proudly to the view , One solitary column fixed his glance , ( 1 ) He knew its summit had been crowned by France ...
... fame , How many gallant deeds have borne his name ! As toward Egypt's strand his glad bark flew , And tow'ring fanes rose proudly to the view , One solitary column fixed his glance , ( 1 ) He knew its summit had been crowned by France ...
Pàgina 11
... fame- But as a rash , a boyish prank , passed o'er , ' Twas mentioned , wondered at , and heard no more : — Still it may glad his heart , though far away , When o'er my artless song his glance shall stray , To know how oft , ' mid ...
... fame- But as a rash , a boyish prank , passed o'er , ' Twas mentioned , wondered at , and heard no more : — Still it may glad his heart , though far away , When o'er my artless song his glance shall stray , To know how oft , ' mid ...
Pàgina 12
... fame ; Scenes hallowed yet by deeds of ages past , Whose fadeless wreaths of glory still shall last In unstained verdure - though each realm may now No longer weave fresh laurels for her brow , But fallen and degenerate remains ...
... fame ; Scenes hallowed yet by deeds of ages past , Whose fadeless wreaths of glory still shall last In unstained verdure - though each realm may now No longer weave fresh laurels for her brow , But fallen and degenerate remains ...
Frases i termes més freqüents
amid azure azure skies bark Baron barque beam beautiful beneath billows blast bloom blue blush bower brave breast breeze bright brow castanet chaplet cheek Christmas clouds conqueror's story dames dance dark deep dreams e'en earth elfin knight eyes fair fairy fairy bower falchion fame fancy fling floating flowers flung fragrant gallant gaze gentle glad glance gleam glee glittering glorious glory glowing Harebells Haste hath heart Heaven Jasmine tree joyous KENILWORTH CASTLE Ladye laughing light lone mark Bright mem'ries merrily merry mirth ne'er neath night noble o'er ocean ocean spray olden peal perfumed pride quarry falls rose scene shrine sigh sing skies smile soft song Sorgono sparkling wine spirit star storm strain sweet tear thee thine Thou art thrilling throne transient Twas twine Venice voice waft wave wild wind wing wreath young zephyrs
Passatges populars
Pàgina 121 - HAVE ye ever heard, in the twilight dim, A low, soft strain, That ye fancied a distant vesper hymn, Borne o'er the plain By the zephyrs that rise on perfumed wing, When the sun's last glances are glimmering? Have ye heard that music, with cadence sweet, And merry peal, Ring out like the echoes of fairy feet, O'er flowers that steal? And did ye deem that each trembling tone Was the distant vesper-chime alone ? s 2 132 POEMS.
Pàgina 169 - Than all the wreaths of fairy bower. I ask not, while I near thee dwell, Arabia's spice, or Syria's rose; Thy light festoons more freshly smell, Thy virgin white more freshly glows.
Pàgina 122 - And gaily the trembling bells peal out, With gentle tongue, While elves and fairies career about, 'Mid dance and song: Oh ! roses and lilies are fair to see, But the wild Bluebell is the flower for me. And when, in far distant years, I meet Their...
Pàgina 80 - Still keep him fast chain'd : we must have none here But vernal blasts, and gentle winds appear; Such as blow flowers, and through the glad boughs sing Many soft welcomes to the lusty spring : These are our music.
Pàgina 170 - And the chained captive pined for death. On border fray, on feudal crime, I dream not while I gaze on thee ; The chieftains of that stern old time Could ne'er have loved a Jasmine-tree.
Pàgina 37 - Not a tree, A plant, a leaf, a blossom, but contains a folio volume. Ye are the stars of earth — and dear to me Is each small twinkling gem that wanders free, 'Mid glade or woodland, or by murm'ring stream, For ye to me are more than sweet or fair, I love ye for the mem'ries that ye bear ; Or bygone hours, whose bliss was but a dream.
Pàgina 158 - Oh ! come to the river's rim, come to us there, For the white water-lily is wondrous fair, With her large broad leaves on the stream afloat (Each one a capacious fairy-boat), The swan among FLOWERS ! how stately ride Her snow-white leaves on the rippling tide; And the dragon-fly gallantly stays to sip A kiss of dew from her goblet's lip : Oh ! come in the glow Of the long summer's day, When the cool waves flow, And the zephyrs play; Oh ! dwell not in cities, 'mid cark and care, But come to the river's...
Pàgina 63 - Ivy, that stauncheat and firmest friend, That hastens its succouring arm to lend To the ruined fane where in youth it sprung, And its pliant tendrils in sport were flung. When the sinking buttress, and mouldering tower Seem only the spectres of former power Then the Ivy clusters round the wall, And for tapestry hangs in the moss-grown hall, Striving in beauty and youth to dress The desolate place in its loneliness.
Pàgina 103 - The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou nearest the sound thereof, but ' canst not tell whence it cometh or whither it goeth : so is every one that is born of the Spirit.
Pàgina 29 - I could not dream, — And yet a visionary band arose, 'Mid solemn music's thrilling swell and close, A silent, shadowy train : the taper's gleam Fitfully o'er monastic forms was shed, O'er mitre'd abbot, and the lengthened line Of dark-cowled monks, that bent around the shrine, Still, calm, and voiceless as the slumb'ring dead.