Poems on His Domestic Circumstances

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Bensley and Son, 1816 - 32 pàgines
 

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Pàgina 5 - Hearts can thus be torn away : Still thine own its life retaineth ; Still must mine, though bleeding, beat ; And the undying thought which paineth, Is — that we no more may meet. These are words of deeper sorrow Than the wail above the dead ; Both shall live, but every morrow Wake us from a widowed bed. And when thou wouldst solace gather, When our child's first accents flow, Wilt thou teach her to say
Pàgina 3 - Fare thee well! and if for ever, Still for ever, fare thee well: Even though unforgiving, never 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. Would that breast were bared before thee Where thy head so oft hath lain, While that placid sleep came o'er thee Which thou ne'er canst know again : Would that breast, by thee glanced over, Every inmost thought could show! Then thou wouldst at last discover 'Twas not well to spurn it so. Though the world for this commend thee — Though it smile upon the blow, Even its...
Pàgina 7 - tis done — all words are idle — Words from me are vainer still ; But the thoughts we cannot bridle Force their way without the will. Fare thee well ! — thus disunited — Torn from every nearer tie — Seared in heart — and lone — and blighted — More than this, I scarce can die. A SKETCH FROM PRIVATE LIFE. "Honest — Honest lago ! If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee." SHAKESPEARE. Born in a garret, in a kitchen bred, Promoted thence to deck her mistress...
Pàgina 11 - Skill'd by a touch to deepen scandal's tints With all the kind mendacity of hints While mingling truth with falsehood — sneers with smiles — A thread of candour with a web of wiles...
Pàgina 4 - Even its praises must offend thee, Founded on another's woe: Though my many faults defaced me, Could no other arm be found, Than the one which once embraced me, To inflict a cureless wound? Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not; Love may sink by slow decay. But by sudden wrench, believe not Hearts can thus be torn away : Still thine own its life retaineth.
Pàgina 5 - Should her lineaments resemble Those thou never more may'st see, Then thy heart will softly tremble With a pulse yet true to me. All my faults perchance thou knowest. All my madness none can know ; All my hopes, where'er thou goest, Wither, yet with thee they go.
Pàgina 6 - Then thy heart will softly tremble With a pulse yet true to me. All my faults perchance thou knowest, All my madness none can know ; All my hopes, where'er thou goest, Wither, yet with thee they go. Every feeling hath been shaken ; Pride, which not a world could bow. Bows to thee — by thee forsaken, Even my soul forsakes me now : But...
Pàgina 27 - Farewell to thee, France ! — But when Liberty rallies Once more in thy regions, remember me then, — The violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys ; Though wither'd, thy tear will unfold it again. Yet, yet I may baffle the hosts that surround us, And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice — There are links which must break in the chain that has bound us...
Pàgina 23 - Beheld him a fugitive, captive, and slave ! The savage all wild in his glen Is nobler and better than thou ; Thou standest a wonder, a marvel to men, Such perfidy blackens thy brow ! If...
Pàgina 20 - tis trampled in dust ! Go, look through the kingdoms of earth, From Indus, all round to the Pole, And something of goodness, of honour, and worth, Shall brighten the sins of the soul : But thou art alone in thy shame, The world cannot liken thee there ; Abhorrence and vice have...

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