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The Book of English Elegies: Ed. by W.F.M. Phillipps
William Frederick March Phillipps
Previsualització no disponible - 2016
Adventures Author beauty bliss Book breast breath cloth extra cold Colours Crown 8vo dark dead dear death Demy ditto doth dust earth Edition English eternal eyes fair fall fame fear field flower French friends gentle gilt edges give gone grave grief hand hast hath head hear heart heaven History hope hour Illustrations keep King land leaves Letters lies life's light List live look Lord meet mind morn mortal mourn nature never night numerous o'er once pain pass poor post Svo rest Rose round shalt sleep Small post 8vo smile soon sorrow soul sound spirit stars Story stream sweet tears thee things thou art thought tomb Translated vols volume weep wind young youth
Pàgina 152 - Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forced fingers rude, Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. 5 Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due...
Pàgina 283 - THREE years she grew in sun and shower, Then Nature said, 'A lovelier flower On earth was never sown ! This child I to myself will take ; She shall be mine, and I will make A lady of my own. 'Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse ; and with me The girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain.
Pàgina 116 - Be absolute for death ; either death, or life, Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life : — If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep : a breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences, That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st, Hourly afflict.
Pàgina 108 - That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
Pàgina 277 - 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 dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken ! Thus, in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain hath bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me.
Pàgina 183 - Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescribed, their present state : From brutes what men, from men what spirits know : • Or who could suffer being here below ? The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play ? Pleas'd to the last, he crops the flow'ry food, And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.
Pàgina 144 - THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate; Death lays his icy hand on Kings: Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Pàgina 300 - Our very hopes belied our fears — Our fears our hopes belied ; We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died. For when the morn came, dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed ; she had Another morn than ours!
Pàgina 133 - The dew shall weep thy fall to-night, — For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue, angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, — And thou must die.
Pàgina 203 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care : No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How...