 | 1846 - 436 pągines
...hy lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit should inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary -headed swain may say, — " Oft have we seen him at the peep...his wayward fancies, he would rove ; Now drooping, woful-wan, like one forlorn, Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love. " One morn I missed... | |
 | Thomas Gray - 1847 - 276 pągines
...relies, Some pious drops the closing eye requires; Ev'n from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, Ev'n in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who,...by. « " Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove; Now drooping, woful-wan, like one forlorn, Or crazed with... | |
 | James Sheridan Knowles - 1847 - 344 pągines
...hoary-headed swain may say, " Oft have we seen him, at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dew away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. " There,...by. " Hard by yon wood, now, smiling as in scorn, Mutt'ring his wayward fancies, he would rove ; Now drooping, woful, wan, like one forlorn, Or crazed... | |
 | Asa Humphrey - 1847 - 238 pągines
...away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. " There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreaths its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length...Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove, Now drooping woful wan, like one forlorn, Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love. " One morn 1 miss'd... | |
 | William Balmbro'. Flower - 1848 - 304 pągines
...of nature cries, Even in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of the unhonoured dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate...that babbles by. " Hard by yon wood, now smiling as m scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove ; Now drooping, woful, wan, like one forlorn,... | |
 | David Bates Tower - 1853 - 444 pągines
...nature cries, Even in our ashes live their wonted fires. 9 For thee, who, mindful of the unhonored dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate,...stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by. Hard \>y you wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove ; Now drooping,... | |
 | English poetry - 1848 - 468 pągines
...the voice of Nature cries, Ev'n in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of the' unhonour'd dead. Dost in these lines their artless...length at noon-tide would he stretch, And pore upon the hrook that babbles by. ' Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies,... | |
 | George Croly - 1849 - 416 pągines
...led, Some kindred spirit shall enquire thy fate : Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, " Oft we have seen him at the peep of dawn, Brushing with hasty...Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove, Now drooping woful wan, like one forlorn, Or craz'd with care, or crossed in hopeless love. " One morn I miss'd... | |
 | Richard Green Parker - 1849 - 446 pągines
...may say, " Oft have we seen him, at the peep of dawn, Brushing, with hasty steps, the dews away, 20 To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. " There, at...stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by. 25 " Hard by yon wood, now smiling, as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove ; Now... | |
 | Robert Joseph Sullivan - 1850 - 524 pągines
...relies, Some pious drops the closing eye requires ;' Ev'n from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, Ev'n in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who,...babbles by. " Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Mutt'ring his wayward fancies, he would rove ; Now drooping, woeful, wan, lik« one forlorn, Or eraz'd... | |
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There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by. 
